Private  jCibrary 

OF 

FRED  W.  DAVIS. 


DIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


THE   BOY   BROKER 


BY   FRANK   A.1MUNSEY 


NEW  YORK 

FRANK   A.    MUNSEY 


COPYRIGHT,  I&54 
BY 

FRANK  A.  MUNSEY 


THE  BOY  BROKER. 


i. 


IVE  me  the  best  morning  paper  you  have, 

please." 
"The  Tribune  costs  the  most,  if  that  is  the 

one  you  want.  '  ' 

"  The  price  will  be  no  objection  providing  the 

paper  contains  what  I  wish  to  find." 
"  You  want  work,  I  s'pose.  " 
'  '  Yes,  I  am  looking  for  employment.  '  ' 
"I  knew  it  —  just  in  from  the  country,  too," 

said  the  newsboy  comically.    ."Well,  what  you 

want  is  the  Herald  or    World.     They   are  just 

loaded  with  wants.  '  ' 

"  Thank  you.     You  may  give  me  both." 
"Both!     Whew,   you  must  be  well  fixed!" 

replied  the  young  metropolitan,  handing  over  the 

papers,  as  he  regarded  his  new  customer  curiously. 
"  What  does  that  mean?  "  asked  the  latter. 
"You  don't   know   what   well  fixed  means? 

You  must  have  come  from  way  back  !     Why,  it 

means  —  it  means  that  you're  solid,  that  you've 

got  the  stuff,  don't  you  see  ?  " 
i 


2  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"I'm  solid  enough  for  a  boy  of  my  age,  if  that  is 
the  idea,"  replied  the  lad  from  the  country  rather 
sharply,  as  a  tinge  of  color  rose  to  his  cheeks. 

"Shucks!  That  ain't  the  idea  at  all,"  said 
the  street  boy,  in  a  tone  that  seemed  apologetic. 
"  What  I  mean  is  that  you're  a  kind  of  boodle 
alderman — you're  rich.  Do  you  see  now  ?  " 

"Oh!  That's  it.  Well,  you  see,  I  didn't 
know  what  you  meant.  I  never  heard  those 
terms  up  in  Vermont.  No,  I'm  not  rich  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  have  so  little  money  that  I  must 
commence  work  at  once. ' ' 

' '  And  that  is  why  you  bought  two  papers,  so 
you  can  take  in  the  whole  business.  You've 
got  a  big  head,  Vermont,  any  way,  and  would  do 
stunnin'  on  mornin'  papers." 

'  Thank  you.  Do  you  mean  at  selling  them  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  of  course.  You  wouldn't  give  'em 
away,  would  you?  " 

"Well,  no,  I  should  not  be  inclined  to  do  so." 

"  That  sounds  more  like  it.  Perhaps  I'll  give 
you  a  job,  if  you  can't  find  anything  else." 

' '  Thank  you.  I  may  be  very  glad  to  get  a 
chance  to  sell  papers  even. ' ' 

"  'Tain't  a  bad  business  anyhow.  Me  and  lots 
of  fellers  makes  plenty  of  money  at  it.  But  I 
s'pose  you're  hungry,  hain't  you  ?  If  you  be  I'll 
take  you  round  to  a  boss  place  and  it  won't  cost 
uothin'  hardly." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  3 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,  but  I  had 
my  breakfast  soon  after  leaving  the  boat. ' ' 

' '  And  I  bet  they  done  you  up  on  the  price.  I 
tell  you  what  it  is,  it  takes  a  fellow  a  good  while 
to  learn  to  live  in  this  city.  You  don't  know 
nothin'  about  what  it  costs.  Why,  I  know  a 
plenty  of  boys  that  spend  more — yes,  I'd  say  so, 
twice  as  much  as  what  I  do,  and  they  don't  throw 
no  style  into  their  livin'  either.  You  see,  they 
don't  know  how  and  hain't  got  no  taste,  any  way. 
But  I  like  your  looks,  Vermont,  and  ef  you  want 
any  points — and  you're  liable  to  want  'em  in  this 
city,  I'll  bet  you — why,  you  just  call  on  me  and 
I'll  fix  you  out  in  big  shape." 

"  Thank  you  sincerely,"  said  the  Green 
Mountain  lad,  a  broad  smile  playing  over  his  fine 
face  as  he  regarded  the  drollery  of  his  new 
acquaintance.  "  I  shall  need  many  suggestions, 
no  doubt,  for  I  feel  almost  lost  in  this  great  city. 
I  had  no  idea  it  was  so  large.  I  was  never  here 
before,  and  do  not  know  where  to  go  for  a  room 
or  meals. ' ' 

"So  I  thought,  and  that's  why  I  offered  to 
put  you  into  the  right  track.  My  name  is  Bob 
Hunter — I  hain't  got  no  business  cards  yet,  but 
all  the  boys  knows  me,  and  my  place  of  business 
is  right  round  here  in  City  Hall  Park.  You'll 
find  me  here  'most  any  time  durin'  business 
hours." 


4  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  Boo  Hunter !  Well,  you  may  be  sure  I 
shall  remember  your  name  and  place  of  business, 
for  I  want  to  see  you  again.  But  what  are  your 
business  hours  ?  ' ' 

"Oh,  yes;  I  forgot  that.  Everybody  must 
have  business  hours,  of  course.  Well,  say  from 
five  to  ten  in  the  mornin' ,  and  three  to  eight  in 
the  afternoon,  you  can  find  me  in." 

"  In !     You  mean  out,  don't  you — out  here  ?  " 

"  Shucks  !  Don't  be  so  schoolmastery.  Every- 
body in  business  says  in.  I  guess  I  know  what's 
proper  ! ' ' 

"  All  right,  Bob  Hunter,  I'll  give  it  up.  You 
know  all  about  propriety  in  New  York,  and  I 
know  nothing  of  it,  so  here  is  my  hand.  I'll 
say  good  by  till  tonight.  I  must  look  over  these 
papers  now,  and  hunt  for  a  situation." 

"  I  hope  you'll  have  luck,  and  get  a  bang  up 
place.  I'll  be  in  when  you  call  tonight;  and  if 
you  hain't  no  objections,  I'd  like  to  know  your 
name.  It  would  be  more  handy  to  do  business, 
you  see.  How  could  my  clerks  announce  you  so 
I'd  know  you,  if  I  don't  know  your  name  ?  You 
see,  I  might  think  it  was  some  one  that  wanted 
to  collect  a  bill,"  continued  Bob  dryly,  "  and  I'd 
be  out.  Don't  you  see  how  it's  done?  I'd  just 
tell  my  clerks  to  say,  '  Mr.  Hunter  is  not  in  ; '  so, 
you  see,  you  would  get  left.  Why,  business  men 
do  it  every  day  !  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  5 

"  My  name  is  Herbert  Randolph,"  replied  the 
other,  laughing  heartily  at  his  comical  friend — I 
say  friend,  for  he  already  felt  convinced  that  he 
had  found  one  in  Bob  Hunter. 

"Herbert  Randolph!  That's  a  tony  name — 
some  old  fellow  I  read  about  in  school  was  called 
Randolph ;  most  likely  he  was  one  of  your 
relations." 

The  day  was  too  cold  for  him  to  remain  out  in 
the  park  and  read  ;  so  Herbert,  acting  on  the 
advice  of  Bob  Hunter,  hurried  to  the  great 
granite  post  office,  and  there,  in  the  rotunda,  ran 
his  eye  over  the  ' '  wants  ' '  in  his  two  papers. 

Many  columns  of  closely  printed  matter  in  each 
paper  offering  every  conceivable  position  were 
spread  out  before  him — a  bewildering  display  of 
flattering  prospects. 

Young  Randolph  soon  learned  that  if  he  stopped 
to  read  every  advertisement  in  both  journals  it 
would  be  very  late  in  the  day  before  he  could 
apply  for  any  position.  But  should  he  only  read 
a  few  of  the  wants  he  might  fail  to  notice  the  best 
openings.  This  was  a  misfortune,  for  he  was 
ambitious  to  get  the  right  position — the  position 
that  would  enable  him  to  advance  the  fastest ;  and 
like  all  inexperienced  boys,  he  hoped  and  even 
expected  he  might  get  it  the  very  first  time 
trying. 

He  had  already  marked  a  dozen  or  two  adver- 


6  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

tised  situations  which,  it  seemed  to  him,  would 
do  very  well,  in  fact  were  quite  desirable,  but  of 
course  they  were  the  high  priced  positions  which 
would  naturally  be  most  sought  after  by  thousands 
of  other  applicants — rivals  whom  the  young  Ver- 
monter  did  not  take  into  consideration.  He  saw 
before  him  a  demand  for  four  or  five  thousand 
people  to  help  move  the  wheels  of  commerce.  He 
knew,  of  course,  that  he  could  only  accept  one 
position,  so  he  was  desirous  that  that  one  should 
be  the  best.  Any  smart  boy  would  feel  as  he 
did  in  this  respect. 

Some  boys  would  even  be  so  thoughtful  of  the 
interest  of  others  as  to  feel  sad  that  the  four 
thousand  nine  hundred  and  ninety  nine  employers 
should  be  deprived  of  their  services. 

But  young  Randolph  was  more  selfish.  He  had 
come  here  from  the  country  with  buoyant  hopes 
and  splendid  courage.  He  proposed  to  make  his 
way  in  New  York — to  become  what  is  known  as 
a  successful  man,  to  make  a  name  for  himself — a 
name  that  would  extend  to  his  native  State  and 
make  his  parents  proud  of  their  brilliant  sou. 

Feeling  thus,  how  natural  it  was  that  he  should 
linger  over  the  attractive  columns  much  longer 
than  was  wise.  Yet  he  did  not  think  of  this,  or 
at  least  he  did  not  give  it  any  serious  considera- 
tion, for  were  there  not  a  vast  number  of  posi- 
tions to  be  filled  ?  The  question,  then,  was  not 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  7 

whether  he  could  get  anything  to  do,  but  rather 
which  one  he  should  accept.  When  talking  with 
young  Bob  Hunter,  the  newsboy,  he  had  inti- 
mated that  he  might  be  glad  even  to  get  a  chance 
to  sell  papers  ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that 
he  had  not  at  that  time  seen  a  New  York  paper, 
and  knew  nothing  of  the  tremendous  demand  for 
help. 

Such  a  proposition  from  Bob  now,  however, 
would  doubtless  have  been  scorned,  notwith- 
standing Herbert's  usual  good  sense.  And  such 
scorn  would  have  been  very  natural  under  the 
circumstances.  Selling  papers  is  an  employment 
vastly  inferior  to  clerking,  to  bookkeeping,  to 
banking,  to  writing  insurance  policies,  all  of 
which  positions  were  now  open  to  him,  as  he 
supposed,  else  why  should  they  be  advertised  ? 
And  why  could  not  he  fill  them — any  one  of 
them  ?  He  was  honest,  ambitious,  willing  to 
work  hard,  wrote  a  splendid  hand,  had  had  some 
experience  in  clerking  in  a  country  store,  and, 
best  of  all,  he  knew  he  would  be  faithful  to  his 
employer — all  excellent  qualifications  in  a  gen- 
eral way — qualifications  that  probably  seemed  to 
him  irresistible.  Then,  too,  might  he  not  lend  a 
degree  of  intelligence,  of  thought  to  the  business 
that  would  be  helpful  ?  This  was  a  point  that 
did  not  occur  to  him  at  first — not  till  his  mind 
became  inspired  with  the  subject ;  but  now  the 


8  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

idea  seemed  to  him  a  good  one,  and  he  wondered 
that  he  had  not  thought  of  it  before.  At  any 
rate,  he  decided  not  to  lose  sight  of  it  again,  for 
he  knew — his  common  sense  told  him,  and  he  had 
read  also,  that  the  men  who  move  things  in  this 
world  are  men  of  brains — men  who  think,  who 
lend  ideas  to  business,  to  inventions,  to  anything 
and  everything  with  which  they  have  to  deal. 

Thus  another  complication  was  added,  for  now 
he  must  consider  in  determining  if  the  position  he 
accepted  would  give  him  the  widest  scope  for 
thought,  and  the  broadest  play  for  genius,  ideas, 
originality,  and  enterprise.  His  imagination  ran 
fast.  He  was  dead  to  the  busy  scenes  about  him. 
Great  questions  pressed  home  upon  him  for 
decision,  and  he  did  not  decide  quickly  and  with- 
out thought,  as  a  light  headed  boy  would  have 
done.  No  ;  he  pondered  long  and  hard  over  the 
subject  which  meant  so  much  to  him,  and  per- 
haps to  the  entire  commerce  of  the  city  and  even 
the  finances  of  the  nation.  What  might  not 
grow  out  of  his  start  in  life — the  start  of  a 
thoughtful,  industrious,  original  man  ?  How 
important,  then,  that  it  should  be  a  right  start  ! 
What  might  not  come  of  a  false  venture  ?  How 
the  possibilities  of  the  future  might  be  dwarfed 
by  such  a  move  ! 

These  were  momentous  questions  for  this  young 
ambitious  boy  to  solve.  He  grappled  with  them 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  9 

bravely,  and  with  flushed  cheeks  and  dilated  eyes 
knitted  his  brows  and  thought.  He  thought  hard, 
thought  as  one  with  the  responsibilities  of  a 
nation  resting  upon  him — this  young,  untried, 
untrained  boy  from  old  Vermont. 

"No,  I  will  not  take  it,"  he  broke  out  sud- 
denly and  with  striking  determination  in  his  face. 
"Simply  because  I  write  a  good  hand  they  would 
keep  me  writing  policies  all  the  time  ;  and  then, 
I  believe  the  insurance  business  is  run  like -a  big 
machine.  No,  I  do  not  want  it  and  will  not  take 
it,  for  I  am  not  going  to  make  a  mistake  this 
time.  I  want  to  show  the  folks  down  home  who 
said  I  would  make  a  failure  here  that  they  didn't 
know  me — they  counted  on  the  wrong  man.  No, 
insurance  is  good  enough  for  any  one  without 
ambition  or  ideas,  who  always  wants  to  be  a 
clerk,  but  I'm  not  that  kind  of  a  man." 

He  was  actually  calling  himself  a  man  now. 

"  But  I  think  mercantile  business  or  manufact- 
uring or  banking  would  do  for  me  and  would  be 
suited  to  me.  I  wonder  which  is  the  best  ! 
Mercantile  business  gives  one  a  good  chance  to 
show  what  he  is  made  of.  A  man  with  ideas 
ought  to  succeed  in  it ;  that  is,  if  he  is  pushing 
and  has  plenty  of  originality.  A.  T.  Stewart, 
what  a  fortune  he  made  !  He  was  original,  he 
did  things  in  a  new  way,  advertised  differently, 
got  up  new  ideas,  and  pushed  his  business  with 


10  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

close  attention.  He  started  without  any  money. 
I  have  no  money.  He  was  a  hard  worker,  a 
thinker,  an  originator,  a  pusher.  Why  shouldn't 
I  be  a  hard  worker,  a  thinker,  an  originator,  and 
a  pusher?  These  qualifications  will  win  just  as 
well  in  the  manufacturing  and  banking  business 
as  in  mercantile  pursuits,  and  if  I  have  them  I 
shall  succeed  anywhere.  I  wonder  why  those 
people  in  Vermont  thought  I  would  not  succeed 
here.  I  wish  they  could  see  the  chances  I  have. 

"  Well,  I  do  not  think  I'll  take  to  manufactur- 
ing, though  here  are  a  dozen  or  so  first  class 
situations  in  that  line.  I  might  like  it  well 
enough,  but  I  believe  banking  or  the  mercantile 
business  would  suit  me  better,  and  I  don't  care 
much  which.  Of  course  banking  will  be  easier 
at  first  than  clerking,  so  I  should  have  more  time 
for  thought  and  study — time  to  get  right  down 
to  the  science  of  the  business.  Here  are  four 
banks  that  want  a  young  man.  I'll  take  a  look 
at  each,  for  I  want  the  best  one." 

Thus  young  Randolph  reasoned,  feeling  no 
uneasiness  about  procuring  a  situation,  though  he 
had  wasted  in  building  foolish  air  castles  so  much 
valuable  time  that  he  had  really  almost  no  chance 
of  obtaining  a  situation  of  any  kind  that  day. 
This  he  learned  to  his  sorrow  a  little  later,  when 
he  commenced  in  earnest  the  very  difficult  under- 
taking of  getting  employment  in  a  great  city. 


II. 


"I  X /"HAT  a  common  occurrence  it  is  for  people 
to  do  foolish  things.  How  often  we  see 
a  man  of  education  and  broad  influence — a  hard 
headed  man  of  sense,  who  has  made  his  own  way 
against  stubborn  opposition,  and  accumulated 
great  wealth — how  often,  I  say,  we  see  such  a 
man  exhibit  a  degree  of  simplicity  in  money 
making  or  some  other  matter  that  would  seem 
weak  in  an  untutored  boy.  When  he  already  has 
more  money  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with,  he 
will  perhaps  hazard  all  on  some  wild  cat  specula- 
tion, and  in  a  very  little  while  find  himself 
penniless  and  unable  to  furnish  support  for  his 
family.  Again  he  becomes  the  victim  of  a  con- 
fidence game,  and  only  learns  how  he  has  been 
played  with  when  he  has  lost  perhaps  fifty 
thousand  dollars  by  the  unscrupulous  sharpers 
with  whom  he  has  been  dealing. 

Such  exhibitions  of  weakness  in  men  to  whom 
the  community  looks  for  an  example  are  always 
surprising,  always  painful ;  but  they  teach  us  the 
important  fact  that  human  nature  is  easily 
influenced,  easily  molded,  easily  led  this  way  or 


12  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

that,  when  the  proper  influences  are  brought  to 
bear  upon  it. 

It  is  not  so  strange,  then,  that  young  Herbert 
Randolph,  fresh  from  the  country  and  as  igno- 
rant of  the  city  as  a  native  African,  should  have 
become  dazzled  by  the  flattering  prospects  spread 
out  before  him.  What  a  busy  city  New  York 
seemed  to  him  when  he  landed  from  the  boat  in 
the  early  morning  !  Everything  was  bustle  and 
activity.  People  were  hurrying  along  the  streets 
as  he  had  never  seen  them  move  in  his  quiet 
country  town.  No  idlers  were  about.  Men  and 
boys  alike  were  full  of  business — they  showed  it 
in  their  faces,  their  every  movement.  These 
facts  impressed  the  young  country  lad  far  more 
than  the  tall  buildings  and  fine  streets.  His  own 
active  nature  bounded  with  admiration  at  the  life 
and  dash  on  every  hand.  He  had  been  reared 
among  sleepy  people — people  in  a  rut,  whose 
blood  flowed  as  slowly  as  the  sluggish  current 
upon  which  they  floated  towards  their  final 
destiny. 

But  young  Randolph  was  not  of  their  class. 
He  had  inherited  an  active  mind,  and  an  ambi- 
tion that  made  him  chafe  at  his  inharmonious 
surroundings  at  home.  The  very  atmosphere, 
therefore,  of  this  great  city,  laden  with  the  hum 
of  activity,  was  stimulating  and  even  intoxicating 
to  his  boundless  ambition.  He  had  been  a  great 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  *3 

reader.  Biography  had  been  his  favorite  pas- 
time. He  knew  the  struggles  and  triumphs  of 
many  of  our  most  conspicuous  merchant  princes. 
Not  a  few  familiar  names,  displayed  on  great 
buildings  which  towered  over  the  tops  of  their 
smaller  neighbors,  greeted  his  eyes  as  he  ap- 
proached the  city  by  boat  and  passed  through 
the  streets  after  landing.  These  sights  were 
food  for  his  imagination.  He  compared  himself, 
his  qualifications,  his  poverty,  and  his  opportu- 
nities for  advancement  in  this  world  of  activity 
with  the  advent  into  New  York  of  the  men  he 
had  taken  as  models  for  his  own  career.  There 
was  in  a  general  way  a  striking  likeness  between 
the  two  pictures  as  he  viewed  them.  Their 
struggles  had  been  so  long  and  fierce  that  it 
seemed  to  him  they  must  have  been  made  of  iron 
to  finally  win  the  fight. 

Yet  these  very  difficulties  lent  attractiveness  to 
the  picture.  They  made  heroes  of  his  models, 
whose  example  he  burned  with  enthusiasm  to 
follow.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  early 
morning  he  expected  to  meet  bitter  discourage- 
ments, to  encounter  poverty  in  its  most  depress- 
ing form,  and  to  meet  rebuffs  on  all  sides.  He 
expected  all  this.  He  rather  craved  it  from  the 
sentimental,  heroic  standpoint,  because  the  men 
he  had  chosen  to  follow  had  been  compelled  to 
force  their  way  through  a  similar  opposition. 


14  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

From  this  view  of  the  boy  it  is  plain  that  he 
was  sincere  in  thanking  young  Bob  Hunter,  a 
little  later,  for  the  newsboy's  generous  offer  to 
take  him  into  the  paper  trade.  But  a  little  later 
still,  when  he  enters  the  post  office  and  becomes 
intoxicated  with  the  sudden,  the  unexpected,  the 
overwhelming  opportunities  displa)red  before  him 
— the  urgent  demands,  even,  for  his  services  in 
helping  to  push  forward  the  commerce  of  this 
vast  city — he  presents  himself  in  an  entirely  new 
light.  His  head  has  been  turned.  He  has  lost 
sight  of  the  early  struggles  of  his  heroes,  and  now 
revels  in  the  brilliant  pictures  drawn  by  his 
imagination.  How  flattering  to  himself  are  these 
airy,  short  lived  fabrics,  and  how  sweet  to  his 
young  ambition  ! 

Had  young  Randolph  been  an  ordinary  boy  of 
slow  intellect,  he  would  never  have  indulged  in 
these  beautiful  dreams,  which  to  the  stupid  mind 
would  seem  silly  and  absurd,  but  to  him  were 
living  realities — creations  to  beckon  him  on,  to 
encourage  him  in  the  hours  of  danger  and  to  sus- 
tain him  in  the  stern  battle  before  him. 

Did  he  then  waste  his  time  in  what  would 
seem  wild  imagination,  when  a  more  practically 
minded  boy  would  have  been  applying  for  work  ? 
Yes,  in  the  smaller  sense,  he  idled  his  time  away  ; 
but  in  the  broader,  he  builded  better  than  he 
knew.  To  be  sure,  he  had  lost  the  opportunity 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  15 

of  securing  a  situation  on  that  day — and  he 
needed  work  urgently — but  he  had  fixed  upon  an 
ideal — a  standard  of  his  own,  to  be  the  goal  of  all 
his  efforts  and  struggles.  And  such  an  ideal 
was  priceless  to  him.  It  would  prove  priceless  to 
any  boy,  for  without  lofty  aims  no  young  man 
can  ever  hope  to  occupy  a  high  position  in  life. 

Of  course  he  appears  foolish  in  forgetting  what 
he  had  anticipated — namely,  the  difficulties  he 
would  in  all  probability  experience  in  finding  a 
situation — but  the  fact  that  five  thousand  posi- 
tions were  offered  to  him  who  knew  nothing  of 
the  tremendous  demand  for  such  situations 
entirely  deluded  him.  Once  forgetting  this 
important  point,  his  mind  ran  on  and  on,  growing 
bolder  and  bolder  as  thought  sped  forward 
unrestrained  in  wild,  hilarious  delight. 

What  pleasure  in  that  half  hour's  thought — 
sweet,  pure,  intoxicating  pleasure,  finer  and  more 
delicate  than  any  real  scene  in  life  can  ever  afford. 

But  everything  has  a  price,  and  that  price  must 
many  times  be  paid  in  advance.  Those  delight- 
ful moments  passed  in  thinking  out  for  himself  a 
grand  career  cost  young  Randolph  far  more  than 
he  felt  he  could  afford  to  pay.  They  cost  him 
the  opportunity  of  securing  a  position  on  that 
day,  and  made  him  sick  at  his  own  ignorance  and 
folly.  He  felt  ashamed  of  himself  and  disgusted 
at  his  stupidity,  as  he  walked  block  after  block 


1 6  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

with  tired  feet  and  heavy  heart,  after  being  coldly 
turned  away  from  dozens  of  business  houses  with 
no  encouragement  whatever.  He  went  from 
banking  to  mercantile  pursuits,  then  to  insurance, 
to  manufacturing,  and  so  on  down,  grade  after 
grade,  till  he  would  have  been  glad  to  get  any 
sort  of  position  at  honest  labor.  But  none  was 
offered  to  him  and  he  found  no  opening  of  any 
sort. 

Night  was  coming  on.  He  was  tired  and 
hungry.  His  spirits  ran  low.  In  the  post  office, 
in  the  early  part  of  the  day,  they  soared  to  unusual 
height,  and  now  they  were  correspondingly  de- 
pressed. What  should  he  do  next  ?  Where  should 
he  spend  the  night?  These  questions  pressed 
him  for  an  answer.  He  thought  of  Bob  Hunter, 
and  his  cheeks  flushed  with  shame.  He  would 
not  have  the  newsboy  know  how  foolish  he  had 
been  to  waste  his  time  in  silly  speculation.  He 
knew  the  }7oung  New  Yorker  would  question 
him,  and  he  would  have  to  hide  the  real  cause  of 
his  failure,  should  he  join  his  friend.  He  was 
fast  nearing  Bob's  place  of  business,  and  he 
decided  to  stop  for  a  few  moments'  reflection,  and 
to  rest  his  weary  limbs  as  well.  Accordingly  he 
stepped  to  the  inner  side  of  the  flagging  and  rested 
against  the  massive  stone  base  of  the  Astor 
House. 

Looking  to  his  right  Broadway  extended  down 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  17 

to  the  Battery,  and  to  his  left  it  stretched  far 
away  northward.  Up  this  famous  thoroughfare 
a  mighty  stream  of  humanity  flowed  homeward. 
Young  Randolph  watched  the  scene  with  much 
interest,  forgetting  for  a  time  his  own  heavy 
heart.  Soon,  however,  the  question  what  to  do 
with  himself  pressed  him  again  for  an  answer. 
How  entirely  alone  he  felt !  Of  all  the  thousands 
of  people  passing  by  him,  not  one  with  a  familiar 
face.  Every  one  seemed  absorbed  in  himself, 
and  took  no  rnore  notice  of  our  country  lad  than 
if  he  had  been  a  portion  of  the  cold,  inanimate 
granite  against  which  he  stood.  Herbert  felt  this 
keenly,  for  in  the  country  it  was  so  different. 
There  every  one  had  a  kind  look  or  a  pleasant 
word  for  a  fellow  man  to  cheer  him  on  his  way. 


III. 


(~*  HILLY  from  approaching  night  and  strength- 
^•^  ening  wind,  and  depressed  by  a  dishearten- 
ing sense  of  loneliness  and  a  keen  realization  of 
failure  on  the  first  day  of  his  new  career,  Herbert 
felt  homesick  and  almost  discouraged. 

At  length  he  joined  the  passersby,  and  walked 
quickly  until  opposite  City  Hall  Park.  He  crossed 
Broadway  and  soon  found  himself  at  young  Bob 
Hunter's  "place  of  business."  The  latter  was 
"in,"  and  very  glad  he  seemed  to  see  his  new 
friend  again.  His  kindly  grasp  of  the  hand  and 
hearty  welcome  acted  like  magic  upon  Herbert 
Randolph  ;  but  his  wretchedly  disheartened  look 
did  not  escape  the  keen  young  newsboy's  notice. 

"  Didn't  strike  it  rich  today,  did  you?"  said 
he,  with  a  smile. 

' '  No, ' '  replied  Herbert  sadly. 

"Didn't  find  no  benevolent  old  gentleman — 
them  as  is  always  looking  for  poor  boys  to  help 
along  and  give  'em  money  and  a  bang  up  time  ?  " 

' '  I  did  not  see  any  such  philanthropist  looking 
for  me,"  answered  Herbert,  slightly  puzzled,  for 
the  newsboy's  face  was  seriousness  itself. 
18 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  19 

"Well,  that  is  all  fired  strange.  I  don't  see 
how  he  missed  you,  for  they  takes  right  to 
country  boys." 

"I  did  not  start  out  very  early,"  remarked 
Herbert  doubtfully,  and  with  heightened  color. 

"  Then  that's  how  it  happened,  I  guess,"  said 
Bob,  with  a  very  thoughtful  air.  ' '  But  you 
must  have  found  somebody's  pocketbook " 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  ' '  interrupted  Herbert 
suspiciously. 

"  Why,  what  could  I  mean?  Wasn't  it  plain 
what  I  said?  Wasn't  I  speaking  good  English, 
I'd  like  to  know?  "  said  Bob,  apparently  injured. 

"Your  language  was  plain,  to  be  sure,  and 
your  English  was  good  enough,"  apologized 
Herbert;  "but  I  can't  see  why  I  should  find 
anybody's  pocketbook." 

"Jest  what  I  thought,  but  you  see  you  don't 
know  the  ways  of  New  York.  You  will  learn, 
though,  and  you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how 
easy  it  is  to  pick  up  a  pocketbook  full  of  green- 
backs and  bonds — perhaps  a  hundred  thousand 
dollars  in  any  one  of  'em — and  then  you  will  take 
it  to  the  man  what  lost  it,  and  he  will  give  you 
lots  of  money,  maby  a  thousand  dollars  or  so — 
'twouldn't  be  much  of  a  man  as  would  do  less 
than  a  thousand.  What  do  you  think?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think.  I  cannot  under- 
stand you,  Bob  Hunter." 


20  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"That's  'cause  you  don't  know  me,  and  ain't 
posted  on  what  I'm  saying.  Maby  I  am  springin' 
it  on  you  kinder  fresh  for  the  first  day,  though  I 
guess  you  will  stand  it.  But  tell  me,  Vermont, 
about  the  runaway  horse  that  you  stopped. ' ' 

"The  runaway  horse  that  I  stopped!"  ex- 
claimed Herbert.  "  You  must  be  mad  to  talk  in 
this  way." 

"Mad!  Well,  that's  good;  that's  the  best 
thing  I've  heard  of  yet  !  Do  I  look  like  a  fellow 
that's  mad?  "  and  he  laughed  convulsively,  much 
to  the  country  lad's  annoyance. 

"  No,  you  do  not  look  as  if  you  were  mad,  but 
you  certainly  act  as  if  you  were,"  replied  the 
latter  sharply. 

"  Now  look  a  here,  Vermont,  this  won't  do," 
said  Bob,  very  serious  again.  "You  are  jest 
tryin'  to  fool  me,  but  you  can't  do  it,  Vermont, 
I'll  tell  you  that  straight.  Of  course  I  don't 
blame  you  for  wantin'  to  be  kinder  modest  about 
it,  for  I  s'pose  it  seems  to  you  like  puttiu'  on  airs 
to  admit  you  saved  their  lives.  But  then  'tain't 
puttin'  on  no  airs  at  all.  Ef  I  was  you  I'd  be 
proud  to  own  it ;  other  boys  always  owns  it,  and 
they  don't  show  no  modesty  about  it  the  same  as 
what  you  do,  either.  And  I  don't  know  why 
they  should,  for  it's  something  to  be  proud  of  ; 
and  you  know,  Vermont,  the  funniest  thing  about 
it  is  that  them  runaways  is  always  stopped  by 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  21 

boys  from  the  country  jest  like  you.  Don't  ask 
me  why  it  happens  so,  for  I  don't  know  myself  ; 
but  all  the  books  will  tell  you  that  it  is  so.  And 
jest  think,  Vermout,  how  many  lives  they  save  ! 
You  know  the  coachman  gets  paralyzed,  and  the 
horses  runs  away  and  he  tumbles  off  his  box,  and 
a  rich  lady  and  her  daughter — they  are  always 
rich,  and  the  daughter  is  always  in  the  carriage, 
too — funny,  ain't  it,  but  it's  as  true  as  I'm  alive  ; 
and  the  boy  rushes  at  the  horses  when  they  are 
going  like  a  cyclone,  and  stops  'em  jest  as  the 
carriage  is  going  to  be  dashed  to  pieces.  And 
then  the  lady  cries  and  throws  her  arms  round 
the  boy  and  kisses  him,  and  puts  a  hundred 
dollars  in  his  hands,  and  he  refuses  it.  Then  the 
lady  and  her  daughter  ask  him  to  come  up  to 
their  house,  and  the  next  day  her  husband  gets 
a  bang  up  position  for  him,  where  he  can  make 
any  amount  of  money. 

"  Now  I  call  that  somethin'  to  be  proud  of,  as 
I  said  before,  and  I  don't  see  no  sense  in  your 
tryin'  to  seem  ignorant  about  it.  Why,  I  wouldn't 
be  surprised  a  bit  ef  you  would  try  to  make  out 
that  you  wasn't  anear  any  fire  today.  But  that 
wouldn't  do,  Vermont — I'll  give  you  a  pointer  on 
that  now,  so  you  won't  attempt  no  such  tom- 
foolery with  me,  for  no  boy  like  you  ever  conies 
into  a  town  like  New  York  is  and  don't  save 
somebody  from  burning  up — rescue  'em  from  a 


22  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

tall  building  when  nobody  else  can  get  to  'em. 
And  of  course  for  doing  this  they  get  pushed  right 
ahead  into  something  fiue,  while  us  city  fellows 
have  to  shin  around  lively  for  a  livin'. 

"I  don't  know  ef  you  saved  anybody  from 
drowning  or  not ;  I  won't  say  that  you  did,  but 
ef  you  didn't  you  ain't  in  luck,  that's  all  I've  got 
to  say  about  it.  So  you  see  'taiu't  much  use  for 
you  to  try  to  deceive  me,  Vermont,  for  I  know 
jest  what's  a  fair  day's  work  for  a  boy  from  the 
country — jest  what's  expected  of  him  on  his  first 
day  here.  Why,  ef  you  don't  believe  me  (and  I 
know  you  don't  by  the  way  you  look),  jest  get 
all  the  books  that  tells  about  country  boys  coming 
to  New  York,  and  read  what  they  say,  that's  all 
I  ask  of  you,  Vermont.  Now  come,  own  up  and 
tell  it  straight." 

' '  Bob,  you  are  altogether  too  funny, ' '  laughed 
Herbert,  now  that  the  drift  of  his  friend's  seem- 
ingly crazy  remarks  was  plain  to  him.  "  How 
can  you  manage  to  joke  so  seriously,  and  why  do 
you  make  fun  of  me  ?  Because  I  am  from  the 
country,  I  suppose." 

' '  I  hope  I  didn'  t  hurt  your  feelings,  Vermont, ' ' 
replied  Bob,  enjoying  greatly  his  own  good 
natured  satire. 

"  No,  not  at  all,  Bob  Hunter,  but  until  I  saw 
your  joke  I  thought  surely  you  were  insane." 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  thought  you  needed  some- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  23 

thing  to  kinder  knock  the  blues  that  you  brought 
back  with  you  tonight — 'tain't  much  fun  to  have 
'em,  is  it  ?  Sometimes  I  get  'em  myself,  so  I  know 
what  they're  like.  But  now,  to  be  honest,  and 
riot  fool  no  more,  didn't  you  get  no  show  today  ?  " 

"No,  not  the  least  bit  of  encouragement," 
replied  Herbert. 

"  And  you  kept  up  the  hunt  all  day  ?  " 

"Yes." 

' '  I  ought  ter  told  you  that  that  wan't  no  use." 

"How  is  that?" 

"  Why,  don't  you  see,  it's  the  first  fellers  what 
gets  the  jobs — them  as  gets  round  early." 

"  And  are  there  so  many  applicants  for  every 
position  ?  ' ' 

"Are  there?  Well,  you  jest  bet  there  are. 
I've  seen  more'n  two  hundred  boys  after  a  place, 
and  'twan't  nothin'  extra  of  a  place,  either." 

1 '  But  then  there  are  thousands  of  places  to  be 
filled.  Why,  the  papers  were  full  of  them." 

' '  Yes,  and  there  is  a  good  many  more  thousands 
what  wants  them  same  jobs.  You  never  thought 
of  that,  I  guess." 

Herbert  admitted  with  flushed  cheeks  that  he 
had  not  given  that  fact  proper  consideration. 

"  Well,  you  done  well,  any  way,  to  hang  on  so 
long,"  said  Bob,  in  his  off  hand,  comical  manner. 
"  1  expected  you'd  get  sick  before  this  time,  and 
steer  straight  for  Vermont," 


24  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Why  did  you  think  that  ?  " 

"Well,  most  of  the  country  boys  think  they 
can  pick  up  money  on  the  streets  in  New  York  ; 
but  when  they  get  here,  and  begin  to  hunt  for  it, 
they  tumble  rather  spry — I  mean  they  find 
they've  been  took  in,  and  that  a  fellow  has  got  to 
work  harder — yes,  I'd  say  so,  ten  times  harder — 
here'n  he  does  on  a  farm.  There  he  can  just 
sleep  and  laze  round  in  the  sun,  and  go  in 
swimmin',  and  all  the  time  the  stuff  is  just 
growin'  and  whoopin'  her  right  along,  like  as  if 
I  was  boss  of  a  dozen  boys,  and  they  was  all 
sellin'  papers  and  I  was  makin'  a  profit  on  'em 
all,  and  wasn't  doin'  nothin'  myself.  So  when 
these  fellers  find  out  they've  got  to  knuckle  down 
and  shine  shoes,  why  they  just  light  out  kinder 
lively,  and  make  up  their  minds  that  New  York 
ain't  much  of  a  town  no  how." 

' '  And  so  you  thought  I  would  '  light  out ' 
too,"  laughed  Herbert. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  know.  I  told  you  I  liked  your 
looks,  but  I  hain't  much  faith  in  nobody  till  I 
know  what  kind  of  stuff  a  feller  is  made  of.  But 
if  he's  got  any  sand  in  him,  then  I'll  bet  on  his 
winning  right  here  in  New  York,  and  he  won't 
have  to  go  back  home  for  his  bread.  Well, 
speakin'  of  bread  reminds  me  that  it's  about  time 
to  eat  somethin'  and  I'm  all  fired  hungry,  and  you 
look  es  ef  'twould  do  you  good  to  get  a  little 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  25 

somethin'  warm  in  your  stomach.  Funny,  ain't 
it,  we  can't  do  nothin'  without  eatin'  ?  But  we 
can't,  so  let's  eat.  Business  is  about  over,  and  I 
don't  mind  leaviu'  a  little  early,  any  way." 

Herbert  assented  gladly  to  this  proposition,  and 
presently  Bob  took  him  up  Chatham  Street  to 
an  eating  house  known  as  the  "Boss  Tweed 
Restaurant" — a  restaurant  the  cheapness  of 
which  recommended  it,  five  cents  being  the 
established  price  for  a  meal. 

"  I  s'pose  you  hain't  made  no  plans  for  a  place 
to  sleep  yet?"  said  the  newsboy,  while  eating 
their  frugal  fare. 

"  No,"  replied  Herbert.  "  I  thought  I  would 
wait  and  see  you  before  making  any  move  in  that 
direction.  You  are  the  only  one  I  know  in  the 
city." 

"  And  'tain't  much  you  know  about  me." 

"Very  true;  but  from  your  appearance  I'm 
satisfied  to  trust  myself  with  you." 

"  You're  takin'  big  chances  ef  you  do,"  replied 
Bob  happily  ;  ' '  but  ef  you  want  to  take  the 
resk,  why  we  will  jest  look  up  a  room  and  occupy 
it  together.  I  kinder  think  I'd  like  the  scheme. 
I've  been  sleepin'  at  the  Newsboys'  Lodging 
House,  but  I'm  tired  of  it.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"I  say  yes,"  replied  Herbert.  He  was  only 
too  glad  of  the  chance,  and  liked  the  idea  of 
having  Bob  Hunter  for  a  room  mate.  He  thought 


26  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

there  would  be  something  fascinating  about  liv- 
ing with  a  newsboy  and  learning  this  phase  of 
life  in  a  great  city,  especially  when  the  newsboy 
was  so  droll  as  Bob  Hunter  had  already  shown 
himself  to  be. 

"All  right,  then,  it's  a  go,"  replied  Bob, 
greatly  pleased. 

When  the  meal  had  been  finished  they  con- 
tinued up  Chatham  Street  into  the  Bowery,  and 
then  turned  into  a  side  street  where  inexpensive 
rooms  were  offered  for  rent.  After  a  little  hunt- 
ing they  found  one  at  a  cost  of  one  dollar  a  week 
which  proved  satisfactory.  They  immediately 
took  possession,  and  went  to  bed  very  early,  as 
Herbert  was  practically  worn  out. 


IV. 


the  following  morning  both  boys  rose 
early  and  breakfasted  together.  Then 
Bob  hurried  away  to  his  paper  trade,  and  Her- 
bert applied  himself  diligently  to  reading  the 
' '  wants. ' '  The  following  advertisement  espe- 
cially attracted  his  attention  : 

\A7  ANTED,  a  bright,  smart  American  boy  of  about  sixteen 
years  of  age  ;  must  have  good  education,  good  charac- 
ter, and  be  willing  to  work.     Salary  small,  but  faithful  ser- 
vices will  be  rewarded  with  advancement. 

RICHARD  GOLDWIN, 
Banker  and  Broker, Wall  Street. 

"I  think  I  can  fill  those  requirements,"  said 
young  Randolph  to  himself  thoughtfully.  "  For 
all  I  can  see,  I  am  as  likely  to  be  accepted  by  a 
banker  as  a  baker,  or  any  one  else  in  want  of 
help.  There  will  doubtless  be  a  lot  of  applicants 
for  the  position,  and  so  there  would  if  the  demand 
was  for  street  cleaning  ;  therefore,  I  think  I  may 
as  well  take  my  chances  at  the  bank  as  any- 
where else." 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  talked  the 
matter  over  with  Bob  Hunter,  upon  whose  prac- 
tical sense  Herbert  was  beginning  to  place  a  high 
27 


28  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

value.  The  shrewd  young  newsboy  approved  of 
the  plan,  so  our  country  lad  started  early  for 
Wall  Street,  where  the  great  money  kings  are 
popularly  supposed  to  hold  high  carnival,  and  do 
all  sorts  of  extraordinary  things.  When  he 
arrived  at  Richard  Goldwin's  banking  house,  his 
hopes  sank  very  low,  for  before  him  were  perhaps 
forty  or  fifty  boys,  each  of  whom  had  come  there 
hoping  to  secure  the  advertised  position. 

This  crowd  of  young  Americans  comprised 
various  grades  of  boys.  Some  were  stupid,  others 
intelligent ;  a  few  were  quiet  and  orderly,  but  the 
majority  were  boisterous  and  rough.  Squabbling 
wras  active,  and  taunts  and  jeers  were  so  numerous 
that  a  strange  boy  from  a  quiet  country  home 
would  hardly  have  dared  to  join  this  motley 
crowd,  unless  he  was  possessed  of  rare  courage 
and  determination. 

Herbert  Randolph  paused  for  a  moment  when 
he  had  passed  through  the  outer  door,  and  beheld 
the  spectacle  before  him.  He  wondered  if  he 
had  made  a  mistake  and  entered  the  wrong  place  ; 
but*  be  fore  he  had  time  to  settle  this  question  in 
his  own  mind,  one  of  the  boys  before  him,  who 
was  taller  and  more  uncivil  than  those  about 
him,  and  seemed  to  be  a  leader  among  them, 
shouted  derisively  : 

"  Here's  a  new  candidate — right  from  the  barn- 
yard, too  !  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  29 

All  turned  their  attention  at  once  to  the  object 
of  the  speaker's  ridicule,  and  joined  him  in  such 
remarks  as  "potato  bug,"  "country,"  "corn 
fed,"  "  greeny,"  "  boots,"  and  all  the  time  they 
howled  and  jeered  at  the  boy  from  the  farm  most 
unmercifully. 

"You  think  you'll  carry  off  this  position, 
maybe,"  said  the  leader  sarcastically.  "You'd 
better  go  home  and  raise  cabbage  or  pumpkins  ! ' ' 

Again  the  crowd  exploded  with  laughter,  and 
as  many  mean  things  as  could  be  thought  of  were 
said.  Herbert  made  no  reply,  but  instead  of 
turning  back  and  running  away  from  such  a  crowd, 
as  most  boys  would  have  done,  he  stepped  forward 
boldly  and  took  his  place  in  the  line  with  others 
to  await  the  arrival  of  the  banker. 

His  face  was  flushed,  and  he  showed  plainly 
his  indignation  at  the  insolent  remarks  made  to 
him.  Nevertheless,  this  very  abuse  stimulated 
his  determination  to  such  a  degree  that  he  was 
now  the  last  boy  in  the  world  to  be  driven  away 
by  the  insults  and  bullying  of  those  about  him. 

His  defiance  was  so  bold,  and  his  manner  was 
so  firm  and  independent,  that  he  at  once  com- 
manded the  respect  of  the  majority  of  the  long 
line  of  applicants,  though  all  wished  he  were  out 
of  the  way,  for  they  saw  in  him  a  dangerous  rival 
for  the  position  they  sought. 

A  notable  exception,  however,  to  those  who 


30  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

shared  this  better  feeling,  was  the  boy  whom  I 
have  spoken  of  as  the  "leader,"  for  such  he 
seemed  to  be.  He  was  no  ordinary  boy,  this 
bright,  keen,  New  York  lad,  with  a  form  of  rare 
build,  tall  and  straight  as  a  young  Indian.  He 
showed  in  every  movement,  and  in  the  manner  of 
his  speech,  that  his  character  was  a  positive  one, 
and  that  nature  had  endowed  him  with  the 
.  qualities  of  a  leader. 

These  gifts  he  now  exercised  with  remarkable 
effect  upon  the  raw  material  about  him,  if  by  such 
a  term  I  may  characterize  the  peculiarly  mixed 
crowd  of  boys  in  line. 

When,  however,  Herbert  Randolph  advanced 
to  his  position  with  such  unmistakable  determina- 
tion in  his  manner,  and  with  firmness  so  dis- 
tinctly showing  in  every  muscle  of  his  face,  our 
young  leader  trembled  visibly  for  an  instant, 
and  then  the  hot  blood  mantling  his  cheeks 
betrayed  his  anger. 

He  had  endeavored  to  drive  away  the  young 
Verinonter  by  jeers  and  bullying,  but  he  failed 
in  this  attempt.  In  him  he  found  his  match — a 
boy  quite  equal  to  himself  in  determination,  in 
the  elegance  of  his  figure  and  the  superiority  of 
his  intellect. 

The  country  boy  lacked,  however,  the  polish 
and  grace  of  the  city,  and  that  ease  and  assurance 
that  come  from  association  with  people  in  large 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  31 

towns.  But  the  purity  of  his  character,  a  char- 
acter as  solid  as  the  granite  hills  of  his  native 
State,  was  of  infinitely  more  value  to  him  than 
was  all  the  freedom  of  city  manners  to  the  New 
York  lad. 

These  two  boys  were  no  ordinary  youths. 
Each  of  them  possessed  a  positive  and  determined 
character.  The  one  was  bold  as  the  other,  and 
in  intellect  and  the  commanding  qualities  of  their 
minds  they  were  giants  among  boys. 

The  others  felt  this  now  in  the  case  of  both, 
as  they  had  but  a  few  moments  before  felt  it 
regarding  the  one.  They  realized  their  own 
inferiority.  The  jeering  and  bullying  ceased, 
and  all  was  quiet,  save  the  slam  of  the  door,  as 
new  applicants  now  and  then  dropped  in  and 
joined  the  line.  The  silence  became  painful  as 
the  two  prominent  figures  eyed  each  other.  Her- 
bert knew  better  than  to  make  the  first  move. 
He  waited  the  action  of  his  rival,  ready  to  defend 
his  position. 

The  strange  and  sudden  quiet  of  all  the  boys, 
who  had  but  a  few  moments  before  been  so  noisy 
and  insulting,  gave  him  renewed  courage.  He 
saw,  to  his  great  relief,  that  he  had  but  one  mind 
to  contend  with — but  one  enemy  to  overcome.  In 
this  one's  face,  however,  was  pictured  a  degree 
of  cunning  and  anger  that  he  had  never  seen 
before  in  all  his  simple  life. 


32  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

The  evil  designs  in  the  face  of  the  city  boy 
momentarily  became  more  noticeable.  Why  had 
he  so  suddenly  stopped  his  derisive  remarks? 
And  why  should  he  show  his  evident  hatred 
toward  our  hero  ?  Is  it  possible  that  he  dare  not 
attack  him,  and  that  he  is  afraid  to  continue  the 
bullying  further  ?  That  he  feels  that  Herbert  is 
his  equal,  and  perhaps  more  than  a  match  for 
him,  seems  evident ;  and  yet  he  will  not  acknowl- 
edge himself  inferior  to  any  one,  much  less  to  this 
country  lad. 

"  No,  he  shall  not  get  this  situation  away  from 
me, ' '  he  said  determinedly  to  himself  ;  and  then 
his  mind  seemed  bent  upon  some  deep  plot  or 
wicked  scheme. 


V. 


PRESENTLY  the  inner  doors  of  the  banking 
house  were  thrown  open,  and  a  gentleman 
of  perhaps  a  little  more  than  middle  age  stepped 
lightly  into  the  corridor,  where  the  boys  awaited 
his  arrival.  He  had  a  kindly  face,  and  a  sharp 
but  pleasant  blue  eye. 

All  seemed  to  know  intuitively  that  he  was 
Richard  Gold  win,  the  banker,  and  consequently 
each  one  made  a  dashing  but  somewhat  comical 
effort  to  appear  to  good  advantage. 

' '  Good  morning,  boys, ' '  said  the  banker  pleas- 
antly, "  I  am  glad  to  see  so  many  of  you  here, 
and  I  wish  I  was  able  to  give  each  one  of  you  a 
position.  Many  of  you  are  too  young  for  my  pur- 
pose ;  therefore,  it  would  be  useless  to  waste  your 
time  and  mine  by  further  examination." 

In  a  little  time  the  contest  had  narrowed  down 
to  but  two,  and  they  were  Herbert  Randolph 
and  the  boy  who  had  so  ineffectually  attempted 
to  drive  him  away. 

' '  What  is  your  name  ?  ' '  asked  the  banker  of 
the  city  lad. 

' '  My  name  is  Felix  Mortimer. ' ' 
33 


34  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Felix  Mortimer?'1 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Mortimer,  Mortimer,"  repeated  Mr.  Gold- 
win.  "  The  name  sounds  familiar,  but  I  can't 
place  it.  Do  you  live  in  New  York  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  In  what  part  of  the  city  ?  " 

"  In  Eleventh  Street,  sir — on  the  East  Side." 

' '  Well,  you  appear  like  a  bright  boy.  Are 
you  ambitious  to  work  your  way  up  in  a  solid, 
reliable  business  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am  ;  and  banking  is  just  what  I 
would  like. ' ' 

' '  And  you  are  willing  to  work  hard  ?  ' ' 

' '  Yes,  sir ;  I  think  I  could  satisfy  you  that  I 
am." 

' '  What  is  your  age  ?  ' 

' '  I  am  seventeen  years  old. ' ' 

"  Have  you  ever  worked  in  any  business 
house?" 

"Yes,  I  have  had  two  years'  experience  in 
business. ' ' 

"  You  commenced  rather  young — so  young 
that  I  am  afraid  your  education  was  neglected." 

"  Well,  I  was  a  good  scholar  in  school  ;  here  is 
a  recommendation  from  my  teacher." 

Richard  Goldwin  read  the  letter,  which  pur- 
ported to  be  signed  by  the  principal  of  a  well 
known  school. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  35 

"  This  speaks  well  of  you,"  said  the  banker. 

Felix  looked  pleased,  and  cast  a  triumphant 
glance  at  Herbert,  who  sat  at  a  little  distance  off, 
anxiously  awaiting  his  turn  to  be  examined.  He 
was  afraid  the  banker  might  settle  upon  young 
Mortimer  without  even  investigating  his  own  fit- 
ness for  the  position. 

' '  For  what  firm  did  you  work  ?  ' '  asked  Rich- 
ard Goldwin. 

"  For  Wormley  &  Jollup,"  replied  Felix  firmly. 

' '  The  large  trunk  manufacturers  up  Broad- 
way ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Why  didn't  you  remain  with  them?" 

This  question  would  have  confused  some  boys 
had  they  been  in  the  place  of  Felix  ;  but  it  did 
not  affect  him  in  the  slightest  degree,  though  the 
keen  and  practised  eye  of  the  banker  watched 
him  closely. 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember  that  Wormley  & 
Jollup  had  a  big  strike  in  their  factory  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  the  papers  printed  a  great  deal  about 
it." 

"  Well,  you  see,  they  couldn't  get  any  trunks 
made  ;  so  business  got  dull  in  the  store." 

"They  wouldn't  give  in  to  the  strikers,  I 
believe  ? ' ' 

1 '  No  ;  and  the  result  was  they  had  to  let  a  lot 
of  us  go." 


36  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  It  was  an  unfortunate  affair.  But  I  suppose 
you  got  a  recommendation  from  Wormley  & 
Jollup?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Felix,  with  all  the  assurance 
of  one  who  was  telling  the  truth  ;  ' '  there  it  is— 
signed  by  Mr.  Jollup  himself." 

The  letter  was  highly  complimentary  to  Felix 
Mortimer. 

' '  No  one  could  ask  for  a  better  recommenda- 
tion than  this,"  said  the  banker,  looking  as  if  he 
thought  he  had  found  a  prize  in  the  boy  before 
him. 

Had  he  suspected  that  this  very  recommenda- 
tion was  forged,  he  would  have  been  angry. 
Now,  however,  he  felt  quite  the  reverse,  and 
decided  to  give  Herbert  a  hearing  more  as  a 
matter  of  courtesy  than  otherwise,  for  he  had 
practically  settled  upon  young  Mortimer  for  the 
position  in  his  banking  house. 

Felix  saw  this,  and  could  hardly  restrain  his 
happiness,  as  he  saw  pictured  on  the  young  Ver- 
monter's  face  unmistakable  discomfiture. 

"Well,  you  may  be  seated,"  said  Mr.  Gold- 
win  ;  "  I  wish  to  see  what  this  young  man  has  to 
say  for  himself  before  engaging  any  one. ' ' 

"So  you  came  from  Vermont,  right  from  the 
farm?"  said  the  banker  to  Herbert,  after  a  few 
minutes'  conversation. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  young  Randolph. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  37 

' '  And  I  suppose  you  expect  to  make  your  for- 
tune in  this  city  ?  ' ' 

"  I  have  not  gone  so  far  along  as  that  yet,  sir. 
I  hope,  however,  that  I  shall  do  well  here. ' ' 

"You  look  like  a  plucky  lad,  and  those  red 
cheeks  of  yours  are  worth  a  fortune.  I  remember 
well  when  mine  were  as  full  of  rich  young  blood 
as  yours  are  now.  I  was  a  country  lad  myself. ' ' 

"  Then  your  career  shows  that  a  boy  from  the 
country  may  make  a  success. ' ' 

"Yes,  that  is  very  true.  Many  of  our  most 
successful  men  came  from  the  farm  ;  but  I  assure 
you,  my  boy,  that  success  is  not  an  easy  thing  to 
pick  up  in  a  big  city.  The  chances  are  a  hundred 
to  one  against  any  boy  who  conies  here  from  the 
country.  If,  however,  he  does  not  succumb  to 
temptation,  and  has  sufficient  pluck  and  persever- 
ance, he  can  do  well  in  this  city." 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  take  that  hundredth 
chance,"  said  Herbert,  in  a  way  that  pleased  the 
banker. 

"Well,  I  admire  your  courage,  young  man; 
but  now  to  return  to  business.  Suppose  I  were 
to  give  you  a  situation,  how  could  you  live  on 
three  dollars  a  week?  You  say  you  have  no 
means,  and  must  earn  your  own  living.  I  cannot 
pay  a  larger  salary  at  first. ' ' 

' '  I  am  sure  I  can  manage  that  all  right,  sir  ; 
one  can  do  what  he  must  do. ' ' 


38  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  That  is  true  ;  your  ideas  are  sound  there, 
surely.  What  is  your  age  ?  ' ' 

"  I  am  nearly  seventeen,  sir." 

"You  are  strongly  built,  perhaps  you  could 
get  a  place  where  more  money  could  be  paid  for 
your  services  ;  some  place  where  heavy  work  is 
to  be  done." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  hard  work,  for  I  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  it ;  but  I  would 
much  rather  have  a  chance  where  there  are  good 
prospects  ahead. ' ' 

"  Again  you  are  right,"  said  the  banker,  now 
becoming  interested  in  the  young  Vermonter. 
' '  What  is  your  education  ?  ' ' 

"  I  passed  through  our  district  school,  and 
went  for  several  terms  to  the  Green  Mountain 
Academy.  I  have  taught  three  terms  of  school. ' ' 

"  Three  terms  !  You  certainly  must  have 
commenced  young." 

"Yes;  I  was  not  very  old.  I  got  my  first 
school  when  I  was  fifteen. ' ' 

' '  Do  you  write  a  good  hand  ?  Please  come  to 
this  desk,  and  show  me  what  you  can  do." 

Herbert  complied  readily  with  the  request, 
for  he  had  spent  many  hours  in  practising  pen- 
manship, and  now  wrote  a  beautiful  hand. 

Richard  Goldwin  was  surprised  when  he  took 
up  the  sheet  of  paper  and  ran  his  eye  over  the 
well  formed  letters. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  39 

' '  Mr.  Mortimer,  will  you  please  show  me  what 
you  can  do  with  the  pen  ?  ' '  said  the  banker. 

Felix  rose  to  his  feet,  and  the  color  rose  to  his 
face.  He  wasn't  very  powerful  with  the  pen, 
and  he  knew  it ;  but  another  matter  disconcerted 
him.  He  feared,  and  well  he  might,  that  his 
writing  would  resemble,  only  too  closely,  that  in 
the  recommendation  which  he  had  shown  to  Mr. 
Goldwin.  But  he  was  equal  to  the  emergency, 
and  to  make  the  disguise  perfect  he  gave  to  his 
writing  the  left  hand  or  backhand  stroke.  This 
was  done  at  the  expense  of  his  penmanship, 
which,  however,  would  not  have  been  considered 
absolutely  bad  had  it  not  been  compared  with 
the  gracefully  and  perfectly  cut  letters  of  Her- 
bert Randolph. 

The  banker  looked  at  both  critically  for  a 
moment,  and  then,  after  a  pause,  said  : 

"  Mr.  Mortimer,  I  would  like  to  speak  with 
you  alone. ' ' 

The  latter  followed  him  to  the  outer  office. 

"  Your  manner  pleases  me,  young  man,"  said 
Mr.  Goldwin  pleasantly,  "  and  with  one  excep- 
tion I  see  but  little  choice  between  you  two  boys, 
but  that  little  is  in  your  competitor's  favor." 

The  color  left  Felix  Mortimer's  face. 

"I  refer,"  continued  the  banker,  "  to  his  pen- 
manship, which  you  must  acknowledge  is  far 
superior  to  your  own  ;  and  a  good  handwriting 


40  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

adds  much  to  one's  value  in  an  office  of  this  sort. 
I  see  you  are  disappointed,  and  I  knew  you 
would  be.  Do  not,  however,  feel  discouraged,  as 
it  is  possible  I  may  do  something  for  you  yet. 
If  Mr.  Randolph  should  prove  unsatisfactory  in 
any  respect,  he  will  not  be  retained  permanently. 
You  may,  therefore,  if  you  choose,  run  in  here 
again  in  a  day  or  two. ' ' 

Young  Mortimer  was  greatly  disappointed  and 
even  deeply  chagrined,  for  he  had  supposed  him- 
self more  than  capable  of  holding  his  own  against 
this  unsophisticated  country  lad.  Had  he  not 
attempted  to  bully  him  while  waiting  for  the 
banker  and  failed,  thus  arousing  a  spirit  of  rivalry 
and  hostility  between  young  Randolph  and  him- 
self, he  would  of  course  have  felt  differently  ;  but 
now  an  intense  hatred  was  kindled  within  him, 
and  with  burning  passion  he  determined  upon 
revenge. 

Felix  Mortimer  went  direct  from  Richard 
Goldwin's  banking  house  to  the  Bowery,  and 
from  there  he  soon  found  his  way  to  a  side  street 
which  contained  many  old  buildings  of  unattrac- 
tive appearance.  The  neighborhood  was  a  disrep- 
utable one.  Squalor  was  on  every  hand,  and 
many  individuals  of  unsavory  reputation  made 
this  locality  their  headquarters.  One  of  these 
was  Christopher  Gunwagner,  a  repulsive  speci- 
men of  humanity,  who  had  been  in  business  here 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  41 

for  several  years  as  a  "  fence,"  or  receiver  of 
stolen  goods. 

To  this  fence  Felix  directed  his  steps. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Gunwagner,"  said  young 
Mortimer  briskly. 

The  former  eyed  him  sharply  for  a  moment. 

' '  What  do  you  want  now  ?  ' '  growled  the 
fence,  by  way  of  reply.  "  Why  don't  you  bring 
me  something,  as  you  ought  to?  " 

Felix  cut  him  short,  and  at  once  proceeded  to 
business. 

"  I  came,"  said  he,  "  to  get  you  to  help  me, 
and  thereby  help  yourself.  I've  got  a  chance  to 
get  into  a  bank " 

' '  Into  a  bank  ?  ' '  interrupted  Gunwagner,  now 
interested. 

"Yes." 

"Where?" 

"  On  Wall  Street,  in  Richard  Goldwin's  bank- 
ing house. ' ' 

"  If  you  don't  take  it,  you're  a  fool.  Gold- 
win's,  hey  ?  "  he  went  on.  ' '  We  can  make  it  pay 
us  ;  yes,  yes,  we  are  in  luck."  And  he  rubbed 
his  thin  hands  together  greedily. 

"  I  expect  to  take  it  as  soon  as  I  can  get  it," 
said  Felix  ;  and  then  he  described  the  competi- 
tive examination  between  himself  and  the  young 
Vermonter. 

"So  you  want  to  get  him  out  of  the  way,  eh  ?" 


42  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"You  have  struck  it  right  this  time.  That's 
just  what  I  want,  and  propose  to  do." 

' '  And  you  expect  me  to  help  you  ?  ' ' 

"  Certainly  I  do.  To  whom  else  should  I  go?" 

' '  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  " 

"I  haven't  quite  got  the  plan  yet,  and  want 
your  advice.  You  see,  if  I  can  get  him  out  of  the 
way  for  a  few  days,  so  he  won't  show  up,  why, 
old  Goldwin  will  take  me  in  his  place.  If  I  can 
once  get  in  there,  and  remain  till  I  get  the  run  of 
things,  we  can  have  it  our  own  way. ' ' 

Gunwaguer's  face  grew  more  and  more  avari- 
cious. The  plan  looked  well  to  him,  and  he  felt 
it  would  be  a  great  thing  to  have  Mortimer  in  a 
rich  banking  house.  The  possibilities  of  bold 
pilferings  from  the  heaps  of  gold  were  most 
tempting  to  him,  and  he  was  now  quite  ready  to 
commit  himself  to  any  feasible  scheme  to  carry 
out  Mortimer's  evil  design.  The  old  fence  was 
an  unscrupulous  man,  and  he  was  ready  to  go  to 
almost  any  length  in  crime  to  avail  himself  of  an 
opportunity  so  tempting  to  his  greed  of  gain. 

The  two  confederates  discussed  the  matter  for 
some  time,  and  at  length  they  agreed  upon  a  plan 
of  action  which  boded  ill  for  our  hero. 


VI. 


\7" OUNG  Randolph  entered  upon  his  duties  at 
once,  but  of  course  did  little  more  during 
the  day  than  familiarize  himself  with  the  work 
that  had  been  assigned  to  him.  Toward  evening 
a  ray  of  sunshine  burst  joyously  into  the  bank, 
and  threw  a  bright,  cheerful  glow  over  the  office. 

Ray  Goldwin,  the  light  hearted,  merry  daughter 
of  the  senior  partner,  with  her  sunny  face  and 
winning  manners,  was  like  a  clear  June  morning. 

L<ittle  acts  go  far,  many  times,  to  make  one 
happy  or  quite  miserable.  It  so  happened  that 
our  hero  had  been  doing  some  writing  for  Mr. 
Gold  win's  own  personal  use.  It  lay  upon  his 
desk  and  was  admirably  done.  It  was,  in  fact, 
like  copper  plate.  The  whole  arrangement  of  the 
work  was  artistic  and  in  the  best  of  taste. 

"Oh,  papa,  who  did  this  beautiful  writing  for 
you  ?  ' '  said  Ray  enthusiastically. 

"Our  new  clerk,  Mr.  Randolph,"  responded 
her  father,  nodding  his  head  in  the  direction  of 
Herbert.  The  latter  felt  his  cheeks  grow  rosy  at 
this  compliment. 

"Mr.  Randolph,"  continued  the  banker,  "will 
43 


44  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

you  kindly  help  me  take  these  parcels  out  to  my 
carriage  ? ' ' 

"Certainly,  sir,  with  pleasure,"  replied  Herbert 
politely. 

Ray  Goldwin  looked  at  him  with  surprise,  and 
his  handsome  face  and  fine  form  attracted  even 
more  than  a  passing  glance  from  her. 

' '  I  want  to  run  up  to  the  corner  of  Broadway, ' ' 
said  Mr.  Goldwin,  wrhen  they  had  reached  the 
door.  "John,  you  may  call  for  me,"  he  con- 
tinued, addressing  the  coachman;  "I  will  be 
read}7  by  the  time  you  get  there." 

Young  Randolph  handed  Ray  into  the  carriage, 
with  just  enough  embarrassment  in  his  manner 
to  interest  her.  Then  he  placed  the  parcels  on 
the  seat  beside  her,  receiving  meanwhile  a  smile 
and  a  look  that  fully  rewarded  him.  Raising  his 
hat,  he  turned  away,  and  as  the  coachman  drove 
off  he  made  a  hasty  retreat  for  the  bank,  from 
which  the  sunshine  now  seemed  to  have  departed. 

When  he  started  for  home  at  the  close  of  busi- 
ness hours,  two  figures  stood  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  street,  a  little  nearer  Broadway. 

As  Herbert  opened  the  outer  door,  preparatory 
to  passing  out,  he  took  a  position  that  brought 
his  eyes  directly  upon  them.  One  of  them 
uneasily,  but  perhaps  quite  naturally,  placed  a 
hand  on  the  shoulder  of  his  companion,  while 
with  the  other  he  pointed  directly  at  Herbert. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  45 

Then,  as  if  realizing  that  possibly  he  had  been 
detected  in  this  act,  he  nervously  pointed  to 
something  on  the  top  of  the  building,  and  all  the 
while  talked  rapidly.  This  was  sufficient  to 
arrest  our  hero's  attention.  He  watched  the  two 
sharply  for  a  few  minutes  while  standing  upon 
the  steps  of  the  banking  house. 

Under  his  direct  gaze  they  appeared  somewhat 
nervous,  and  finally  moved  off  in  the  direction  of 
Broadway.  Herbert  followed  them,  or  rather 
followed  out  his  purpose  to  go  up  to  City  Hall 
Park,  and  find,  if  possible,  Bob  Hunter.  Before 
reaching  Broadway,  however,  the  two  young 
fellows  who  had  pointed  at  him  stopped  and 
peered  into  a  show  window,  thus  bringing  their 
backs  full  upon  Herbert  as  he  passed  them. 

He  knew  so  little  of  city  life  that  he  was  slow 
to  form  an  opinion,  thinking  that  what  seemed 
odd  and  suspicious  to  him  would  perhaps  be  all 
right  in  New  York.  He  therefore  dismissed  the 
matter  from  his  mind,  and  watched  with  amaze- 
ment the  crowds  of  men  who  at  that  hour  of  the 
day  were  pouring  up  Broadway,  on  their  way 
home  from  business. 

"What  a  great  city  this  is!"  he  thought; 
"and  it  is  American,  too.  I  wonder  if  any  of 
the  cities  of  the  old  world  can  turn  out  such  a 
lot  of  business  men  as  these  ! ' ' 

The  boy  was  right  in  asking  himself  this  ques- 


46  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

tion.  The  wonder  he  felt  was  natural,  for  a  finer 
body  of  men  can  rarely  be  found  than  the  busi- 
ness men  of  New  York.  And  now  he  joined  the 
stream  that  flowed  northward.  The  massive 
buildings,  tall  and  stately,  on  either  side  of  Broad- 
way, captured  his  admiration,  and  he  gazed  upon 
them  with  open  mouthed  amazement. 

Stone  buildings  with  gigantic  pillars  and 
massive  walls  ;  buildings  ten  or  a  dozen  stories 
high,  and  mighty  spires  raising  their  tops  afar  up 
in  mid  air — all  these  added  to  the  country  lad's 
wonder  and  astonishment.  He  passed  by  the 
Western  Union  Building,  the  Evening  Post  Build- 
ing, and  now  paused  in  front  of  the  Herald  office 
to  read  the  "  headings  "  on  the  bulletin  board. 

After  being  thus  engaged  for  a  few  moments, 
he  turned  suddenly  around,  and,  to  his  surprise, 
saw  the  two  young  fellows  who  had  attracted  his 
attention  on  Wall  Street.  One  of  them  had  a 
look  about  him  that  seemed  familiar,  and  yet  he 
could  not  tell  where  he  had  seen  him.  His 
figure,  his  eyes,  and  the  shape  of  his  face  were 
not  unlike  Felix  Mortimer  ;  and  yet  he  looked 
older  than  the  latter  by  two  or  three  years,  for  he 
wore  a  small  mustache  and  tiny  side  whiskers. 
Seeing  these  same  fellows  the  second  time,  and 
noticing  that  they  were  apparently  watching  him, 
made  Herbert  feel  a  trifle  uneasy.  But  he  was 
not  easily  worried  or  frightened. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  47 

Bob  Hunter  was  in,  as  on  the  previous  night, 
and  very  glad  he  seemed  at  his  friend's  good  suc- 
cess in  getting  so  desirable  a  position.  When 
Herbert  arrived,  and  had  seated  himself,  he 
related  the  story  of  the  contest,  to  which  the 
newsboy  listened  with  much  interest.  After  he 
had  finished,  Bob,  having  the  country  lad's 
welfare  at  heart,  added  thoughtfully  : 

' '  It  might  be  a  good  idea  to  look  out  for  that 
feller  that  seemed  to  get  down  on  you  so.  He 
probably  knows  you  are  a  stranger  in  the  city, 
and " 

' '  Do  you  think  there  is  any  danger  ?  ' '  inter- 
rupted Herbert. 

"No,  I  can't  say  as  there  is;  but  he  might 
think,  if  he  could  get  you  out  of  the  way,  he 
would  get  the  place  with  the  banker.  You  said 
he  was  disappointed. ' ' 

"Yes,  he  showed  his  disappointment  very 
much. ' ' 

"Well,  nothing  may  come  of  it.  You  keep 
your  eye  on  me,  and  I'll  steer  you  through  all 
right,  I  reckon." 

Herbert  was  upon  the  point  of  telling  Bob  his 
suspicions  about  the  two  fellows  that  seemed  to 
be  shadowing  him,  and  then  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  might  magnify  the  matter,  and  work 
himself  into  a  state  of  uneasiness  when  it  would 
be  better  to  give  it  no  thought  whatever.  There- 


48  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

fore  he  said  nothing  to  the  newsboy  about  them. 

When  they  had  finished  dinner  a  little  later, 
Bob  asked  him  if  he  could  manage  to  pass  away 
an  hour  or  so  alone. 

"Certainly,  if  you  have  an  engagement," 
replied  Herbert. 

"  I  go  to  an  evening  school  ;  but  if  you'll  be 
lonesome  alone,  why,  I'll  stay  with  you  till  you 
learn  a  thing  or  two  about  the  city. ' ' 

"  Oh,  I  shall  be  all  right,"  said  our  hero  con- 
fidently. "  Don't  think  of  remaining  away  from 
school  on  my  account.  I  can  enjoy  looking  at 
the  sights  here  in  the  Bowery  for  a  while  ;  then 
I  will  go  to  the  room,  and  read  till  5rou  come." 

"  All  right.  I'll  do  as  you  say  ;  but  now  you 
look  out,  Vermont,  and  don't  get  lost." 

Bob  seemed  to  have  a  fondness  for  calling  his 
friend  by  this  name,  and  the  latter  indulged  him 
in  the  peculiarity  without  objection. 

After  a  while  young  Randolph  drifted  up  to 
one  of  the  Bowery  dime  museums,  and  stood 
there  for  some  time  reading  the  announcements, 
looking  at  the  pictures,  and  watching  the  crowd 
that  ebbed  and  flowed  up  and  down  that  thor- 
oughfare. 

Presently  a  young  fellow  of  about  his  own  age, 
who  had  for  some  time  been  standing  near  him, 
made  a  casual  remark  about  a  comical  looking 
person  who  had  just  passed  by.  Our  hero  looked 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  49 

up,  and  seeing  that  the  remark  had  been  addressed 
to  him,  he  replied  promptly.  A  conversation 
between  him  and  the  stranger  followed.  Herein 
Herbert  showed  the  trustfulness  characteristic  of 
a  country  boy.  He  knew  he  was  honest  himself, 
and  did  not  once  suspect  that  the  agreeable 
young  man  was  playing  the  confidence  game 
upon  him.- 


VII. 

"\  \  7"HEN  Bob  Hunter  returned  from  the  even- 
ing  school  to  his  room,  he  expected  to  find 
young  Randolph  there. 

"He  promised  to  be  here,"  said  Bob  to  him- 
self. "  I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  him." 

The  newsboy's  manner  showed  some  alarm.  He 
felt  anxious  about  his  friend. 

"  Something  has  gone  wrong,  I  believe,  or  he 
would  surely  come,"  continued  Bob,  after  waiting 
for  a  full  half  hour  ;  "  but  I  can't  imagine  what 
has  steered  him  on  to  the  wrong  track. ' ' 

Another  half  hour  went  by,  and  Herbert  did 
not  put  in  an  appearance. 

"  I  might's  well  stay  here,  I  s'pose,  as  to  go 
'n'  prowl  round  this  town  huntin'  for  Vermont," 
said  Bob  thoughtfully.  "  But  I  guess  I'll  see  if 
I  can  strike  his  trail.  Any  way  I'll  feel  better, 
'cause  I'll  know  I've  done  something.  It's  no 
use  to  let  a  feller  like  him  be  run  into  these  dens, 
if  the  game  can  be  stopped." 

An  hour's  fruitless  hunt,  in  and  about  the 
Bowery,  failed  to  reveal  Herbert's  whereabouts. 
He  was  unable  to  find  any  one  who  had  seen  him. 
50 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  51 

After  giving  up  all  hope  of  learning  what  he 
wished  to  find  out,  Bob  hurried  back  to  his  room, 
with  a  feeling  of  anxiety  quite  new  to  him.  He 
had  taken  a  great  liking  to  our  hero,  and  now 
felt  thoroughly  alarmed,  fearing  that  foul  play 
had  been  brought  to  bear  upon  him. 

The  next  morning  he  was  up  bright  and  early, 
looking  sharply  after  his  paper  business,  but  he 
was  not  the  Bob  Hunter  of  the  past.  From  the 
drollest  and  funniest  boy  in  the  trade  he  had 
suddenly  become  the  most  serious  and  thoughtful. 

"What's  hit  you  this  mornin',  Bob?"  said 
Tom  Flannery,  a  companion  newsboy. 

' '  Why  do  you  ask  that  ?  ' '  returned  Bob. 

"  Why,  you  look  like  you'd  had  a  fit  o'  sick- 
ness. ' ' 

"  You're  'bout  right,  for  I  don't  feel  much  like 
myself,  no  how.  I  didn't  get  no  sleep  hardly  at 
all,  and  I've  worried  myself  thin — just  see  here," 
and  he  pulled  the  waistband  of  his  trousers  out 
till  there  was  nearly  enough  unoccupied  space 
in  the  body  of  them  to  put  in  another  boy  of 
his  size. 

He  couldn't  resist  the  opportunity  for  a  joke, 
this  comical  lad,  not  even  now.  The  trousers 
had  been  given  to  him  by  one  of  his  customers,  a 
man  of  good  size.  Bob  had  simply  shortened  up 
the  legs,  so  naturally  there  was  quite  a  quantity 
of  superfluous  cloth  about  his  slim  body. 


52  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Gewhittaker  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  "I  should 
think  you  have  fell  off !  But  say,  Bob,  what's 
gone  bad?  What's  done  it?"  continued  Tom, 
disposed  to  be  serious. 

"  Well,  you  know  the  boy  I  told  you  about, 
what's  chummin'  with  me?  " 

"Yes,  the  one  I  saw  you  with  last  night,  I 
s'pose?" 

"  Yes,  the  same  one.     Well,  he  is  lost." 

"Lost  !  "  repeated  Tom  incredulously. 

' '  Yes  ;  ' '  and  Bob  acquainted  him  with  the 
facts  of  Herbert's  disappearance.  "  Now,  what 
do  you  think  of  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Looks  bad,"  said  young  Flannery  gravely. 

"  So  it  does  to  me. ' ' 

"  Foul  play,"  suggested  Tom. 

"  That's  what  I  think." 

' '  Perhaps  he  has  got  tired  of  New  York  and 
has  lit  out." 

"  No,  not  much.  Vermont  ain't  no  such 
boy." 

"  Well,  you  know  him  best.  Did  he  have  any 
grip  or  anything  ?  ' ' 

'  Yes,  he  had  a  good  suit  and  lots  of  other 
truck." 

"  And  they're  in  the  room  now  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"You're  in  luck,  Bob.  I'd  like  a  chum  as 
would  slope  and  leave  me  a  good  suit." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  53 

"Well,  I  wouldn't.  No  more  would  you, 
Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  slightly  indignant. 

"I  didn't  mean  nothin',"  said  Tom,  apologiz- 
ing for  the  offense  which  he  saw  he  had  given. 
"  Of  course,  I  wouldn't  want  nobody  to  slope  and 
leave  his  truck  with  me. ' ' 

"  That's  all  right,  then,  Tom,"  said  Bob  for- 
givingly. "  But  now,  what  do  you  s'pose  has 
become  of  him  ?  ' ' 

"Well,  it  looks  like  he  didn't  go  of  his  own 
free  will  when  he  left  everything  behind  him." 

"  Of  course  it  does,  and  I  know  he  didn't." 

Bob  related  the  story  of  Herbert's  experience 
at  the  bank  when  he  secured  the  position. 

"I  don't  like  that  duffer — what  d'ye  call 
him?" 

"  Felix  Mortimer,"  repeated  Bob.  "  I'm  sure 
that's  the  name  Herbert  give  me. " 

"  Well,  I'll  bet  that  he's  put  up  the  job." 

' '  I  think  so  myself.  You  see  he  knew  Ran- 
dolph wasn't  no  city  chap." 

"  That's  so,  and  he  knew  he'd  have  the  drop  on 
him.  But  I  don't  just  see,  after  all,  how  he 
could  get  away  with  him. ' ' 

"  Well,  he  might  have  run  him  into  some  den 
or  other. ' ' 

' '  And  drugged  him  ?  ' ' 

"  Well,  perhaps  so.  There  are  piles  of  ways 
them  fellers  have  of  doin'  such  jobs." 


54  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"I  know  they're  kinder  slick  about  it  some- 
times. But,  say,  Bob,"  continued  Tom  earnestly, 
' '  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about  it  ?  He  may 
be  a  prisoner. ' ' 

"  So  he  may,  and  probably  is,  if  he  is  alive." 

"Why,  Bob,  they  wouldn't  kill  him,  would 
they?" 

"No,  I  don't  suppose  so;  not  if  they  didn't 
have  to." 

' '  Why  would  they  have  to  do  that  ?  ' '  asked 
Tom,  with  his  eyes  bulging  out  with  excitement. 

"Well,  sometimes  folks  has  to  do  so — them 
hard  tickets  will  do  'most  anything.  You  see,  if 
.they  start  in  to  make  way  with  a  feller,  and  they 
are  'fraid  he'll  blow  on  'em,  and  they  can't  make 
no  other  arrangement,  why,  then  they  just  fix 
him  so  he  won't  never  blow  on  nobody." 

"  Bob,  it's  awful,  ain't  it?  "  said  Tom,  with  a 
shudder. 

"  Yes,  it  is.  There  are  a  pile  of  tough  gangs 
in  this  city  that  don't  care  what  they  do  to  a 
feller." 

"  What  do  you  s'pose  they've  done  with  your 
chum?  "  asked  young  Flannery,  returning  to  the 
subject. 

"  Well,  that's  just  what  I  want  to  know,"  said 
Bob  seriously.  "  I  am  going  to  try  to  find  out, 
too.  There  are  tough  dens  in  them  cross  streets 
running  out  of  the  Bowery." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  55 

"  They  won't  do  worse  nor  keep  him  a  pris- 
oner, will  they,  Bob?" 

"  Probably  they  won't,  not  'less  they  think  he 
will  blow  on  'em.  You  see  they've  got  to  look 
out  for  themselves." 

"That's  so,  Bob,  but  why  couldn't  they  send 
him  off  somewhere  so  he  couldn't  blow  on  'em  ?" 

"They  might  do  that,  too." 

' '  But  they  would  get  him  so  far  away  he 
couldn't  get  back  to  New  York  never,  I  suppose?  " 

"Yes,  that's  the  idea.  They  might  run  him 
off  to  sea,  and  put  him  on  an  island,  or  somethin' 
like  that.  I  can't  say  just  what  they  might  do 
if  they  had  their  own  way.  But  the  idea  is  this, 
Tom  Flannery  :  we  must  stop  'em,"  said  Bob 
emphatically,  "  you  and  me.  We've  got  to  find 
out  where  he  is  and  rescue  him." 

"That's  the  boss  idea,  Bob,"  replied  Tom, 
with  emphasis.  "  But  I  don't  see  just  how  we're 
goin'  to  do  it,  do  you  ?  " 

"Well,  no,  I  can't  see  the  whole  game  ;  not 
now.  But  we  must  commence,  and  when  we  get 
a  few  points  we  can  slide  ahead  faster. ' ' 

"  I  wouldn't  know  how  to  commence." 

"  Well,  I  do  ;  I  thought  that  all  out  last  night, 
and  I'm  only  waiting  till  ten  o'clock.  Then  I'll 
steer  for  the  bank  where  Herbert  worked. ' ' 

"  Bob,  you  beat  all  the  boys  I  know  of,"  said 
Tom,  eying  him  with  admiration.  "None  of 


56  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

'em  would  ever  think  of  doin'  the  things  you  do, 
and  they  couldn't  do  'em  if  they  did,  that's  all. 
And  now  you're  goin'  to  do  the  detective  act  !  " 

Tom  stopped  short  here  with  a  jerk,  as  if  he 
had  got  to  the  end  of  his  rope,  and  took  a  long 
breath.  To  ' '  do  the  detective  act ' '  seemed  to 
him  the  greatest  possible  triumph  for  a  boy  like 
himself.  He  looked  upon  his  companion,  there- 
fore, with  wonder  and  admiration. 

Bob's  plans  for  penetrating  the  mystery  had, 
indeed,  been  carefully  formed.  He  fearlessly 
undertook  an  enterprise  from  which  most  boys 
would  have  shrunk.  This  keen,  bright  street 
lad,  however,  was  not  of  the  shrinking  kind.  He 
did  not  turn  away  from  encountering  dangers, 
even  the  dangers  of  some  dreadful  den  in  which 
he  feared  our  hero  was  now  a  prisoner. 

During  the  forenoon  he  visited  the  banking 
house  of  Richard  Goldwin  and  there  found  Felix 
Mortimer  already  installed  in  Herbert's  place. 
This  discovery  confirmed  his  worst  fears  and 
intensified  his  alarm  for  the  safety  of  his  friend. 


VIII. 

I  see  the  proprietor?"  said  a  boy 
addressing  a  clerk  at  the  counter  of 
Richard  Goldwin's  bank.  It  was  the  morning 
after  Herbert's  mysterious  disappearance. 

' '  What  is  your  name  ?  ' '  asked  the  clerk. 

' '  Felix  Mortimer, ' '  answered  the  boy. 

' '  Mr.  Goldwin  is  very  busy, ' '  replied  the  man 
at  the  counter. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  wait,"  said  Felix  ;  and  he 
seated  himself  in  a  chair  in  the  outer  office. 

In  a  little  while  Mr.  Goldwin  came  out  of  his 
private  room,  and  seeing  young  Mortimer  there, 
recognized  him. 

"  Good  morning,  young  man,"  said  he  kindly. 

"  Good  morning,"  returned  Felix  deferen- 
tially. 

' '  Have  you  come  to  tell  us  what  has  become  of 
young  Randolph  ?  ' '  asked  the  banker. 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  Felix  inno- 
cently. ' '  I  came  because  you  asked  me  to  do  so. ' ' 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  remember ;  but  I  referred  to  the 
disappearance  of  the  boy  I  engaged  at  the  time 
you  applied  for  the  position. ' ' 
57 


58  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Why,  isn't  he  here?"  asked  Mortimer, 
feigning  surprise. 

"  No,  he  hasn't  been  here  today." 

' '  What  do  you  imagine  is  the  trouble  ?  ' ' 

' '  I  do  not  know,  unless,  like  so  many  other 
boys,  he  has  got  tired  of  the  work,  and  has  left  it 
for  some  other  position." 

"That  may  be,  and  now  you  speak  of  it,  I 
remember  he  said,  the  morning  we  were  all  wait- 
ing to  see  you,  that  if  he  failed  to  get  this  place 
he  had  another  position  in  view  that  he  could 
get  which  would  pay  him  five  dollars  a  week. ' ' 

Young  Mortimer  told  this  falsehood  with  the 
ease  of  a  veteran.  His  manner  could  not  have 
been  more  impressive  had  he  been  telling  the 
truth. 

' '  Five  dollars  a  week  ! ' '  exclaimed  Mr.  Gold- 
win.  "And  he  came  here  for  three.  I  don't 
see  what  his  motive  was. ' ' 

"Perhaps  he  had  a  motive,"  suggested  Mor- 
timer. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  replied  the  banker. 

Felix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you  know  any- 
thing about  him?"  pursued  Mr.  Gold  win,  his 
suspicions  aroused. 

"  No,  sir — er — not  much." 

"Speak  up,  young  man.  Tell  me  what  you 
know  about  this  young  Vermonter." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  59 

' '  Vermonter  ?  "  repeated  Felix,  with  a  rising 
inflection  ;  and  he  smiled  suggestively. 

' '  Yes,  Vermonter.  Do  you  know  anything  to 
the  contrary  ? ' ' 

' '  You  know  I  was  an  applicant  for  this  posi- 
tion, Mr.  Goldwin,  so  I  do  not  like  to  answer 
your  question.  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me. ' ' 

"  I  appreciate  your  sense  of  honor,  young 
man,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin;  "  but  it  is  to  my  inter- 
est to  know  the  facts.  If  there  is  anything 
against  him,  I  should  be  informed  of  it.  Tell 
me  what  you  know,  and  you  will  lose  nothing  by 
doing  so. ' ' 

With  apparent  reluctance,  Felix  yielded  to  the 
persuasion,  and  said : 

' '  I  was  on  Broadway  with  a  friend  of  mine,  at 
the  close  of  business  hours,  the  day  that  you  hired 
this  young  fellow.  We  were  walking  along  by 
the  Herald  Building  when  he  came  up  Broadway 
and  stopped  to  read  the  news  on  the  Telegram 
bulletin  board.  I  said  to  my  friend,  with  sur- 
prise, '  There  is  the  fellow  I  told  you  about — the 
one  that  beat  me  this  morning  in  getting  the 
position  at  Gold  win's. '  He  looked  at  me  incredu- 
lously and  said,  '  Why,  you  told  me  he  was  a 
country  boy — from  Vermont. ' 

'"So  he  is,'  I  replied.  ' Stuff,'  said  he.  '  I 
know  him  well.  That  was  a  clever  dodge  to  play 
the  country  act.'  I  protested,  but  he  convinced 


60  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

me  that  he  was  right.  He  is  in  a  lawyer's  office, 
so  he  has  to  be  in  court  more  or  less,  and  he  said 
he  saw  him  up  before  Judge  Duffy,  only  a  few 
days  ago,  charged  with  stealing  a  pocketbook. 
The  suspicion  was  strong  against  him,  but  there 
wasn't  proof  enough  to  fix  the  theft  upon  him. 
The  court  came  near  sending  him  to  the  Island, 
though,  for  he  had  been  arrested  twice  before,  so 
my  friend  said." 

"  The  young  villain  !  "  said  the  banker,  when 
Felix  had  finished  this  black  falsehood,  which  he 
told  so  glibly,  and  with  such  seeming  reluctance, 
that  Mr.  Goldwin  accepted  it  as  all  truth.  ' '  I 
am  sorry  I  ever  took  him  into  my  office,"  he 
continued.  ' '  I  must  have  the  bank  carefully 
looked  over,  to  see  if  he  misappropriated  any- 
thing, as  he  very  likely  did." 

Felix  said  nothing,  but  seemed  to  look  sorry 
for  Herbert. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  after  a  pause,  "  is 
it  too  late  to  get  you  ? ' ' 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Mortimer  hesi- 
tatingly. "I  would  like  to  work  for  you,  but 
would  not  feel  right  to  take  the  position  away 
from  this  Vermonter. ' ' 

Felix  laid  a  special  stress  upon  the  word  ' '  Ver- 
mouter." 

' '  Take  it  away  from  him  ! ' '  replied  the  banker 
scornfully.  "  He  cannot  enter  this  bank  again." 


THK  BOY  BROKER.  6 1 

' '  But  you  see  I  would  feel  that  I  am  the 
means  of  keeping  him  out  of  the  position.  You 
wouldn't  have  known  about  his  deception  if  I 
hadn't  told  you." 

Felix  now  used  the  word  ' '  deception ' '  flip- 
pantly, and  with  no  further  apparent  apology  for 
applying  it  to  our  hero. 

"  That  is  all  right,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  I 
aui  glad  to  see  you  sensitive  about  injuring 
another.  It  is  very  much  to  your  credit." 

"  Thank  you,"  was  the  modest  reply.  "Then 
if  you  think  it  would  look  right,  and  you  really 
want  me,  I  will  take  the  position." 

' '  Of  course  we  can  get  hundreds  and  thousands 
of  boys,  but  I  have  taken  a  liking  to  you.  When 
can  you  commence  ?  ' ' 

"  I  can  commence  this  morning,  if  you  wish 
me  to,"  said  Felix. 

"Very  well,  I  wish  you  would — er,  that  is  if 
you  feel  able.  I  notice  your  face  is  swollen,  and 
perhaps  you  are  not  feeling  well. ' ' 

"  Oh,  that  will  not  bother  me,"  replied  Mor- 
timer coolly.  "I  had  a  tooth  filled  yesterday, 
and  have  got  cold  in  my  jaw." 

"  You  must  suffer  with  it.  It  is  swollen  badly 
and  looks  red  and  angry,"  said  the  banker 
sympathetically. 

"  It  does  hurt  a  good  deal,  but  will  not  trouble 
me  about  my  work." 


62  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"It  looks  as  if  the  skin  had  been  injured- 
more  like  a  bruise,  as  if  you  had  received  a  heavy 
blow  on  your  jaw,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  examining 
the  swelling  more  closely. 

Felix  colored  perceptibly,  but  immediately  ral- 
lied, and  said  the  poulticing  had  given  it  that 
appearance. 

Could  Mr.  Goldwin  have  known  the"  truth 
about  this  injured  jaw,  he  would  have  been  par- 
alyzed at  the  bold  falsehood  of  the  young  villain. 

He  had  succeeded  admirably  in  blackening  our 
young  hero's  reputation.  Mr.  Goldwin  now 
looked  upon  Herbert  with  ill  favor,  and  even  dis- 
gust. And  this  change  was  all  caused  by  the 
cuuning  and  falsehoods  of  )7oung  Mortimer.  He 
had  poisoned  Mr.  Goldwin' s  mind,  and  thus  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  himself  in  the  banker's 
good  opinion  and  securing  the  coveted  position. 

"Another  boy  wants  to  see  you,  Mr.  Gold- 
win,"  said  the  clerk,  shortly  after  the  man  of 
finance  had  engaged  young  Mortimer. 

"  You  may  show  him  in,"  said  the  banker. 

The  door  opened,  and  Bob  Hunter  stepped 
into  Mr.  Goldwin's  presence.  If  he  had  only 
had  a  bundle  of  newspapers  under  his  arm,  he 
would  have  felt  quite  at  home  ;  but,  as  he  had 
nothing  of  the  kind,  he  was  a  trifle  embarrassed. 

"  What  do  you  want  here?  "  asked  Mr.  Gold- 
win,  more  sharply  than  was  his  wont. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  63 

"  I  come  down,  sir,  to  see  if  you  can  tell  me 
anything  about  Herbert  Randolph." 

' '  What  do  you  want  to  know  about  him  ?  ' ' 

"I  want  to  know  where  he  is.  He  hain't 
shibwn  up,  not  sence  last  night." 

' '  Was  he  a  friend  of  yours  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  me  and  him  roomed  together." 

' '  You  and  he  roomed  together  ?  ' '  repeated  the 
banker,  as  if  he  doubted  Bob's  word. 

"  That's  what  I  said,  sir,"  answered  the  news- 
boy, showing  his  dislike  of  the  insinuation  against 
his  truthfulness. 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  inclined  to  be  stuffy, 
young  man,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  I  am 
unable,  however,  to  give  you  the  information 
you  seek." 

"  You  don't  know  where  he  is,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not  seen  him  since  he  left  here 
last  night." 

' '  Do  you  know  why  he  is  stayin'  away  ?  ' ' 

"  Certainly  I  do  not" 

"Done  nothin'  wrong,  I  s'pose?"  queried 
Bob. 

"  I  have  not  fixed  any  wrong  upon  him  yet." 

"  Then,  if  he  hain't  done  no  wrong,  somethin's 
keepin'  him." 

"He  may  have  a  motive  in  staying  away," 
said  the  banker,  becoming  interested  in  Bob's 
keen  manner. 


64  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  What  do  you  s'pose  his  motive  is?  " 

"  That  I  cannot  tell." 

"  Foul  play  ;  that's  what  I  think." 

"Nonsense,  boy." 

"I  don't  think  there's  no  nonsense  about  it. 
I  know  he  wouldn't  light  out  jest  for  fun  ;  not 
much.  Herbert  Randolph  wasn't  no  such  a 
feller.  He  didn't  have  no  monej',  'n'  he  had  to 
work.  Me  an'  him  had  a  room  together,  as  I 
said,  an'  his  things  are  in  the  room  now. ' ' 

' '  When  did  you  see  him  last  ?  ' '  said  Mr. 
Goldwin. 

Bob  explained  all  about  Herbert's  disappear- 
ance, but  said  nothing  about  his  suspicions  point- 
ing to  Felix  Mortimer.  He  saw  the  latter  in  the 
outer  office,  and  he  thought  policy  bade  him  keep 
his  suspicions  to  himself  for  the  present. 

"You  tell  a  straightforward  story,  my  boy," 
said  Mr.  Goldwin,  "  but  I  cannot  think  there  has 
been  any  foul  play.  In  fact,  I  have  heard  some- 
thing against  this  young  Randolph  that  makes 
me  distrust  him.  Were  it  not  for  this,  I  should 
feel  more  interest  in  your  story,  and  would  do  all 
in  my  power  to  try  and  find  him." 

"  I  don't  believe  there's  nothing  against  him. 
He's  an  honest  boy,  if  I  know  one  when  I  see 
him.  He  liked  you  and  his  work,  and  them  that 
speaks  against  him  is  dishonest  themselves. 
That's  what  I  think  about  it." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  65 

"But  that  is  only  your  opinion.  Certainly  he 
does  not  appear  in  a  favorable  light  at  the  present 
time." 

Presently  Bob  departed  from  the  bank.  He 
had  learned  all  he  expected,  and  even  more.  He 
knew  now  that  Felix  Mortimer  was  in  Herbert's 
place,  that  Mr.  Goldwin  had  been  influenced 
against  his  friend  by  what  he  believed  to  be  false- 
hoods, and  that  Herbert's  whereabouts  was  as 
much  a  mystery  at  the  bank  as  to  himself. 

These  facts  pointed  suspiciously  to  Felix  Mor- 
timer. Who  else  could  want  to  get  Herbert  out 
of  the  way  ?  Bob  argued.  Having  thus  settled 
the  matter  in  his  own  mind,  he  was  ready  to 
commence  testing  his  theories. 

"Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  when  he  had 
returned  from  Wall  Street,  "I've  struck  the 
trail." 

"  No,  you  hain't,  Bob,  not  so  quick  as  this?  " 
said  Tom,  with  surprise. 

Bob  explained  what  he  had  learned  at  the 
bank. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you,  Tom,  to  look 
out  for  my  business  tonight.  Get  some  kid  to 
help  you,  and  mind  you  see  he  does  his  work 
right." 

"What  you  goin'  to  do,  Bob  ?  " 

"I'm  going  to  lay  round  Wall  Street  till  that 
Mortimer  fellow  comes  outer  the  bank. ' ' 


66  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"What  do  you  mean?  You  hain't  goin'  to 
knock  him  out,  are  you,  Bob?  " 

"Shucks,  Tom,  you  wouldn't  make  no  kind  of 
a  detective.  Of  course  I  wouldn't  do  that.  Why, 
that  would  spoil  the  whole  game. ' ' 

"  Well,  then,  what  are  yon  goin'  to  do?  " 

"Why,  I'll  do  just  as  any  detective  would — 
follow  him,  of  course." 

"  Is  that  the  way  they  do  it,  Bob?  " 

"  Some  of  'em  do,  when  they  have  a  case  like 
this  one." 

"  This  is  a  gosh  fired  hard  one,  ain't  it,  Bob?  " 

"Well,  'tain'tno  boy's  play — not  a  case  like 
this  one. ' ' 

"So  you're  goin'  to  foller  him?  I  wish  I 
could  go  with  you,  Bob." 

"But,  you  see,  you  must  sell  papers.  I'll 
waut  you  to  help  me  later,  when  I  get  the  case 
well  worked  up." 

"It'll  be  too  big  for  one  detective  then,  I 
s'pose?  " 

"That's  the  idea,  Tom.  Then  I'll  call  you 
in,"  said  Bob,  with  the  swell  of  a  professional. 

"I  wish  'twas  all  worked  up,  Bob,  so  you'd 
want  to  call  me  in  now,  as  you  call  it.  It'll  be 
excjting,  won't  it  ?  " 

1 '  Well,  I  should  think  it  would,  before  we  get 
through  with  it. ' ' 

"Say,  Bob,  will  there  be  any  fightin'  ?  "  asked 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  67 

Tom  eagerly.  He  was  already  excited  over  the 
prospects. 

"  Can't  say  that  now — hain't  got  the  case 
worked  up  enough  to  tell.  'Tain't  professional 
to  say  too  much  about  a  case.  None  of  the 
detectives  does  it,  and  why  should  I  ?  That's 
what  I  want  to  know,  Tom  Flannery." 

"  Well,  you  shouldn't,  Bob,  if  the  rest  doesn't 
doit." 

"  Of  course  not.  It's  no  use  to  be  a  detective 
unless  the  job  is  done  right  and  professional.  I 
believe  in  throwin'  some  style  into  anything  like 
this.  'Tain't  often,  you  know,  Tom,  when  a 
feller  gets  a  real  genuine  case  like  this  one. 
Why,  plenty  er  boys  might  make  believe  they 
had  cases,  but  they'd  be  baby  cases — only  baby 
cases,  Tom  Flannery,  when  you'd  compare  'em 
with  this  one — a  real  professional  case. ' ' 

"I  don't  blame  you  for  bein'  proud,  Bob," 
said  Tom  admiringly.  ' '  I  only  wish  I  had  such 
a  case. ' ' 

"  Why,  you've  got  it  now  >  you're  on  it  with 
me,  hain't  you  ?  Don't  you  be  silly,  now,  Tom. 
You'll  get  all  you  want  before  you  get  through 
with  this  case;  an',  when  it's  published  in  the 
papers,  your  name  will  be  printed  with  mine." 

"  Gewhittaker  !  "  exclaimed  Tom  ;  "  I  didn't 
think  of  that  before,  Will  our  names  really  be 
printed,  Bob?" 


68  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Why,  of  course  they  will.  Detectives' 
names  are  always  printed,  hain't  they?  You 
make  me  tired,  Tom  Flannery.  I  should  think 
you'd  know  better.  Don't  make  yourself  so 
redickerlous  by  askin'  any  more  questions  like 
that.  But  just  you  tend  to  business,  and  you'll 
get  all  the  glory  you  want — professional  glory, 
too." 

"It'll  beat  jumpin'  off  the  Brooklyn  Bridge, 
won't  it?"  said  Tom. 

"Well,  if  you  ain't  an  idiot,  Tom  Flannery, 
I  never  saw  one.  To  think  of  comparin'  a  detec- 
tive with  some  fool  that  wants  cheap  notoriety 
like  that  !  You  just  wait  till  you  see  your  name 
in  big  letters  in  the  papers  along  with  mine.  It'll 
be  Bob  Hunter  and  Tom  Flannery. ' ' 

Tom's  eyes  bulged  out  with  pride  at  the  pros- 
pect. He  had  never  before  realized  so  fully  his 
own  importance. 


IX. 


A  T  the  close  of  business  hours,  Felix  Morti- 
mer   sauntered   up   Broadway  with  some- 
thing of  an  air  of  triumph  about  him.     His  jaw 
was  still  swollen,  and  doubtless  pained  him  not  a 
little. 

Another  boy  passed  up  Broadway  at  the  same 
time,  and  only  a  little  way  behind  Mortimer. 

It  was  Bob  Hunter,  and  he  managed  to  keep 
the  same  distance  between  himself  and  young 
Mortimer,  whom,  in  fact,  he  was  "shadowing." 
Of  course,  Mortimer  knew  nothing  of  this.  He 
did  not  know  such  a  boy  as  Bob  Hunter  existed. 

At  the  Post  Office  Felix  Mortimer  turned  into 
Park  Row.  He  stopped  and  read  the  bulletins  at 
the  Mail  and  Express  office.  Then  he  bought  an 
evening  paper,  and  standing  on  the  steps  of  the 
World  office,  looked  it  over  hastily. 

Now  he  moved  on  up  Publishers'  Row,  passing 
the  Times,  the  Tribune,  and  the  Sun  buildings, 
and  walked  along  Chatham  Street.  Presently  he 
emerged  into  the  Bowery.  Now  he  walked  more 
rapidly  than  he  had  been  doing,  so  that  Bob  had 
to  quicken  his  pace  to  keep  him  in  sight. 
69 


70  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

At  the  corner  of  Pell  Street  and  the  Bowery  he 
met  a  young  man  who  seemed  to  be  waiting  for 
him. 

"  I've  been  hanging  round  here  for  'most  half 
an  hour,"  said  he,  as  if  displeased. 

"  I'm  here  on  time,"  replied  Felix  ;  "just  half 
past  five.  Come,  let's  have  a  glass  of  beer." 

Peter  Smartweed  was  the  name  of  this  young 
fellow,  as  Bob  afterwards  found  out. 

When  Felix  and  his  friend  passed  into  the 
drinking  saloon,  Bob  followed  them  as  far  as  the 
door ;  then  he  turned  back,  and  sought  the  dis- 
guise of  a  bootblack. 

A  young  knight  of  the  brush  stood  near  by, 
with  his  blacking  box  slung  over  his  shoulder. 
Bob  arranged  with  him  for  the  use  of  it  for  a  few 
moments,  promising  to  pay  over  all  the  proceeds 
he  made  thereby.  He  also  exchanged  his  hat 
for  the  cap  the  boy  had  on,  and  pulling  it  down 
over  the  left  side  of  his  face,  Bob  Hunter's 
appearance  was  much  changed.  His  accustomed 
step,  quick,  firm,  and  expressive,  was  changed  to 
that  of  the  nerveless,  aimless  boy — a  sort  of  shuffle. 

Thus  disguised,  he  approached  Felix  Mortimer 
and  his  companion,  who  were  sitting  at  a  table 
with  a  partially  filled  schooner  of  beer  before 
each  of  them. 

"  Shine  ?  Shine,  boss?  "  said  Bob,  in  a  strange 
voice. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  7 1 

No  response  was  made  by  the  convivial  youths. 

' '  Two  for  five  ! ' '  continued  Bob  persistently. 
"Two  reg'lar  patent  leathers  for  only  five 
cents  !" 

Peter  looked  at  his  boots.  They  were  muddy. 
Then  he  argued  with  himself  that  Felix  had  paid 
for  the  beer,  so  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  could  not 
even  up  the  score  in  any  less  expensive  way  than 
by  paying  for  the  shines. 

' '  Do  you  mean  you  will  give  us  both  a  shine 
for  five  cents  ?  ' '  said  Peter. 

"Yes,"  drawled  Bob  lazily. 

"  Well,  see  that  they  are  good  ones,  now,  or 
I'll  not  pay  you  a  cent." 

Bob  commenced  work  on  the  shoes  very 
leisurely.  He  seemed  the  embodiment  of 
.stupidity,  and  blundered  along  in  every  way 
possible  to  prolong  the  time. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  climb  down,  Mort, 
and  shine  shoes  for  a  living  ?  ' '  said  Peter  Smart- 
weed  jokingly. 

"  Perhaps  I  wouldn't  mind  it  if  I  was  stupid 
as  the  kid  fumbling  around  your  shoes  seems  to 
be,"  replied  Felix,  in  a  more  serious  mood  than 
his  companion. 

"  Well,  I  think  you  looked  even  more  stupid 
than  this  young  arab  last  night,  when  you  lay 
upon  the  floor. ' ' 

"Well,  I  guess  you  would  have  felt  stupid, 


72  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

too,  if  you  had  got  such  a  clip  as  I  did,"  retorted 
Felix,  as  he  nursed  his  swollen  jaw  with  his 
hand. 

"  It  was  a  stunning  blow,  for  a  fact.  John  I,. 
Sullivan  couldn't  have  done  it  neater.  I  didn't 
think,  Mort,  that  that  young  countryman  could 
hit  such  a  clip,  did  you  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  I  didn't ;  and  I'm  mighty  sure  you  don't 
realize  now  what  a  stinging  blow  he  hit  me.  You 
talk  about  it  as  if  it  didn't  amount  to  much. 
Well,  all  I've  got  to  say  is,  I  don't  want  to  see 
you  mauled  so,  but  I  wish  you  knew  how  good 
it  felt  to  be  floored  the  way  I  was. ' ' 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Peter  ;  "  I  don't  want 
any  of  it.  But  you  looked  so  comical,  as  you  fell 
sprawling,  that  I  couldn't  help  laughing.  I 
believe  I  would  have  laughed  if  you  had  been 
killed." 

Bob  Hunter's  ears  were  now  wide  open. 

"  I  couldn't  see  anything  to  laugh  about,"  said 
Felix  bitterly. 

' '  That  isn'  t  very  strange,  either.  You  naturally 
wouldn't,  under  the  circumstances,"  laughed 
young  Smartweed. 

"Come,  now,  let  up,"  said  Felix.  "Your 
turn  may  come." 

' '  I  expect  it  will,  if  this  "young  farmer  ever 
gets  after  me. ' ' 

"  You  don't  expect  him  to  get  out,  do  you?  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  73 

"  I  hadn't  thought  much  about  it.  My  part  of 
the  program  was  to  get  him  into  old  Gunwagner's 
den,  and  I  did  it  without  any  accident." 

Felix  looked  hard  at  his  companion.  He  knew 
the  last  part  of  this  sentence  was  a  sarcastic 
thrust  at  him, 

Bob  grew  excited,  and  found  it  difficult  to 
restrain  himself.  He  felt  certain  now  that  these 
two  young  villains  were  talking  about  his  friend, 
Herbert  Randolph. 

"  No  accident  would  have  happened  to  me, 
either,  if  lie  hadn't  hit  me  unawares,"  protested 
young  Mortimer,  with  a  bit  of  sourness  about  his 
manner.  ' '  I  allow  I  could  get  away  with  him  in 
a  fair  fight." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  couldn't,  Mort ;  he  is  too  much 
for  3rou.  I  could  see  that  in  a  minute,  by  the 
way  he  handled  himself." 

Young  Mortimer's  face  flushed.  He  didn't  like 
the  comparison. 

"  Well,  he  won't  bother  me  again  very  soon," 
said  he  vindictively. 

"  Didn't  they  tumble  to  anything  crooked  at 
the  bank  ?  ' '  asked  Peter,  after  a  few  moments' 
serious  thought. 

"No." 

"I  don't  see  why.  The  circumstances  look 
suspicious. ' ' 

"  Well,  they  didn't  suspect  the  truth." 


74  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  You're  in  luck,  then  ;  that  is  all  I  have  to 
say." 

"  I  shall  be,  you  mean,  when  we  get  him  out 
of  the  way." 

4 '  He  seems  to  be  pretty  well  out  of  your  way 
now." 

4 'But  that  won't  last  forever.  He  must  be 
got  out  of  New  York  ;  that's  all.  Old  Gunwag- 
ner  will  not  keep  him  round  very  long,  you  may 
be  sure  of  that. ' ' 

"You  don't  know  how  to  shine  a  shoe," 
growled  Smartweed  to  our  young  detective. 
4 '  See  the  blacking  you  have  put  on  the  upper  ! 
Wipe  it  off,  I  say  ;  at  once,  too." 

Bob's  blood  boiled  with  indignation,  and  he 
was  about  to  reply  sharply,  when  he  remembered 
that  he  was  now  acting  the  detective,  and  so  he 
said  : 

44  All  right,  boss  ;  I'll  fix  it  fer  yer  ;  "  and  he 
removed  the  superfluous  blacking  with  great 
care.  .  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt  in  his 
mind  about  Herbert  being  a  prisoner.  He  was 
satisfied  that  his  friend  was  in  the  clutches  of  old 
Gunwagner,  and  he  knew  from  the  conversation 
that  he  was  in  danger  of  being  lost  forever  to 
New  York  and  to  his  friends. 

The  situation  was  an  alarming  one.  Bob  pic- 
tured vividly  the  worst  possibilities  of  our  hero's 
fate. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  75 

Presently,  after  young  Smartweed  had  lighted 
a  cigarette  and  taken  a  few  puffs,  he  said  absent 
mindedly  : 

' '  So  you  are  going  to  send  him  away  from 
New  York?" 

"Of  course;  you  don't  s'pose  we  would  be 
very  safe  with  him  here  ?  ' '  replied  Mortimer. 

"  Safe  enough,  so  long  as  he  is  in  old  Gunwag- 
ner's  cell.  But  what  is  to  be  done  with  him? 
Send  him  back  to  Vermont  ?  ' ' 

"Not  much;  he  won't  go  there  unless  he 
escapes. ' ' 

"It's  rough  on  the  fellow,  Mort,  to  run  him 
off  to  sea,  or  to  make  him  a  prisoner  in  the  bot- 
tom of  a  coal  barge  or  canal  boat.  But  that  is 
what  he  is  likely  to  get  from  that  old  shark," 
said  Peter  Smartweed,  meaning  Gunwagner. 

"Don't  you  get  soft  hearted  now,"  replied 
Felix,  in  a  hard  voice. 

"  I'm  not  soft  hearted,  Mort,  and  you  know  it, 
but  I  don't  like  this  business,  any  way." 

"  What  did  you  go  into  it  for,  then?" 

' '  What  do  we  do  anything  for  ?  I  thought, 
from  what  you  said,  that  he  was  a  coarse  young 
countryman.  But  he  don't  seem  like  it.  In 
fact,  I  believe  he  is  too  nice  a  fellow  to  be  ruined 
for  life." 

"Perhaps  you'd  better  get  him  out,  then," 
said  Mortimer  sarcastically. 


76  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"You  talk  like  a  fool,"  replied  Smartweed 
testily. 

"So  do  you,"  retorted  his  companion,  firing 
up;  and.  he  nursed  his  aching  jaw  as  if  to  lend 
emphasis  to  his  remarks.  These  explosions  sud- 
denly ended  the  discussion,  and  as  soon  as  their 
shoes  were  polished  the  two  young  villains  left 
the  saloon.  Mortimer  turned  up  the  Bowery, 
and  Smartweed  passed  into  a  side  street  leading 
towards  Broadway. 

Bob  readily  dropped  his  assumed  character  of 
bootblack,  and  quickly  started  in  pursuit  of  Felix 
Mortimer. 

The  latter  went  directly  home,  where  he 
remained  for  nearly  an  hour.  At  the  end  of  this 
time  he  emerged  from  the  house,  much  to  the 
young  detective's  relief.  He  had  waited  outside 
all  this  time,  patiently  watching  for  Felix's 
reappearance. 

Though  cold  and  hungry,  Bob  could  not  afford 
to  give  up  the  chase  long  enough  even  to  get  a 
bit  of  lunch.  He  had  made  wonderful  progress 
so  far  in  his  detective  work,  and  he  felt,  as  he 
had  a  right  to  feel,  highly  elated  over  his  dis- 
coveries. 

Now  he  was  shadowing  young  Mortimer  again. 
Down  the  Bowery  they  went  till  they  came  to  a 
side  street  in  a  disreputable  locality.  Here  they 
turned  towards  the  East  River,  and  presently 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  77 

Felix  Mortimer  left  the  sidewalk  and  disappeared 
within  the  door  of  an  old  building. 

"So  this  is  Gunwagner's,  is  it?"  said  Bob  to 
himself.  "  At  least  I  s'pose  'tis,  from  what  them 
fellers  said — Gunwagner — yes,  that's  the  name. 
Well,  this  may  not  be  the  place,  but  I'm  pretty 
sure  it  is,"  he  continued,  reasoning  over  the 
problem. 

After  fixing  the  house  and  its  locality  securely 
in  his  mind,  and  after  having  waited  long  enough 
to  satisfy  himself  that  Mortimer  intended  remain- 
ing there  for  a  time,  he  made  a  lively  trip  to 
City  Hall  Park,  where  he  joined  young  Flannery. 

"  Well,  Bob,  have  you  struck  anything  ?  "  said 
Tom  instantly,  and  with  much  more  than  a  pass- 
ing interest. 

"Yes;  I've  struck  it  rich — reg'lar  detective 
style,  I  tell  you,  Tom,"  said  Bob,  with  pride  and 
enthusiasm.  And  then  he  briefly  related  all  his 
discoveries. 

' '  Nobody  could  er  worked  the  business  like 
you,  Bob,"  said  Tom  admiringly. 

"Well,  I  did  throw  a  little  style  into  it,  I 
think  myself,"  replied  Bob.  "But,"  he  con- 
tinued, "there's  no  time  now  for  talking  the 
matter  over.  We've  got  some  work  to  do,  and 
we  must  attend  to  it  right  now.  I've  got  the 
place  located,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  me 
now,  and  see  what  we  can  do." 


78  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Within  five  minutes  the  two  boys  were  on  their 
way  to  Christopher  Gunwagner's,  and  as  they 
passed  hurriedly  along  the  streets  they  formed  a 
hasty  plan  for  immediate  action — a  plan  cun- 
ningly devised  for  outwitting  this  miserable  old 
fence  and  his  villainous  companions. 


X. 


TTAD  our  young  hero  been  more  wary,  he 
would  not  have  fallen  a  victim  so  easily  to 
the  deceit  of  the  genial  stranger  whom  he  met 
on  the  Bowery.  He  should  have  been  more 
cautious,  and  less  ready  to  assume  friendly  rela- 
tions with  a  stranger.  His  lack  of  prudence  in 
this  lespect  was  almost  inexcusable,  inasmuch  as 
he  had  been  warned  by  Bob  Hunter  to  look  out 
for  himself.  Moreover,  his  suspicions  should 
have  been  excited  by  the  two  young  fellows  he 
saw  on  Wall  Street,  who  appeared  to  be  shadow- 
ing him. 

But  none  of  these  prudential  thoughts  seemed 
to  occur  to  j'oung  Randolph.  In  Vermont  he 
spoke  to  every  one  with  a  frank,  open  confidence. 
He  had  always  done  so  from  his  earliest  recollec- 
tions. Others  in  his  locality  did  the  same. 
Unrestrained  social  intercourse  was  the  universal 
custom  of  the  people.  Habit  is  a  great  power  in 
one's  life.  It  guided  our  hero  on  this  fatal  night, 
and  he  talked  freely  and  confidentially  with  his 
new  acquaintance. 

' '  Have  you  ever  been  in  one  of  these  Bowery 
79 


8o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

museums?"  asked  the  genial  young  man,  after 
they  had  chatted  for  a  little  time. 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  replied  Herbert,  in  a  hesi- 
tating manner  that  implied  his  desire  to  enter. 

This  young  man  was  the  same  one  whose  boots 
Bob  Hunter  blackened  when  he  was  acting  the 
detective,  otherwise  Peter  Smartweed. 

The  latter  smiled  at  the  readiness  with  which 
young  Randolph  caught  at  the  bait. 

"  Well,  you  have  missed  a  treat,"  said  he,  with 
assumed  surprise. 

"I  suppose  so,"  replied  Herbert,  feeling  that 
his  education  had  been  neglected. 

' '  They  have  some  wonderful  curiosities  in 
some  of  these  museums,"  continued  the  )Toung 
confidence  scamp. 

"  So  I  should  think,  from  the  looks  of  these 
pictures." 

' '  But  this  is  the  poorest  museum  on  the  Bowery. 
There  are  some  great  curiosities  in  some  of  them, 
and  a  regular  show." 

' '  Have  you  been  in  all  of  them  ? ' '  asked 
Herbert. 

"Oh,  yes,  dozens  of  times.  Why,  I  can  go 
into  one  of  the  museums  whenever  I  like  with- 
out paying  a  cent,  and  it  is  the  best  one  in  New 
York. 

"  Can  you  ?  "  said  Herbert,  with  surprise.  "  T 
wish  I  could  go  in  free. ' ' 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  8 1 

"  I  can  fix  that  for  you  all  right,"  said  Peter 
magnanimously.  "  I  often  take  a  friend  in  with 
me." 

"  And  it  doesn't  cost  you  anything?  " 

"No,  not  a  cent.  If  you  like,  we  will  stroll 
down  the  Bowery,  and  drop  in  for  a  little  while. 
By  the  way,  I  remember  now  that  a  new  curi- 
osity, a  three  headed  woman,  is  on  exhibition 
there." 

' '  A  three  headed  woman  ! ' '  exclaimed  Her- 
bert. ' '  She  must  be  a  wonderful  sight  ! ' ' 

"  So  she  is.  Come  on,  let's  go  and  see  her.  It 
is  not  down  very  far.  You  have  nothing  to  do,  I 
suppose?  " 

' '  No,  only  to  pass  the  time  away  for  an  hour 
or  so. ' ' 

"Very  well,  then,  you  can't  pass  it  in  any 
more  agreeable  way  than  this,  I  am  sure." 

"You  are  very  kind,"  replied  Herbert,  as  they 
moved  off  in  the  direction  of  the  supposed 
museum.  He  had  no  thought  of  danger,  as  he 
walked  along  with  his  new  friend,  happy  in 
anticipation  of  the  pleasure  before  him.  Could 
he,  however,  have  realized  that  he  was  the  vic- 
tim of  a  shrewd  confidence  game,  that  every  step 
he  now  took  was  bringing  him  nearer  to  the  trap 
that  had  been  set  for  him  by  cruel,  unscrupulous 
villains,  how  his  whole  being  would  have  revolted 
against  the  presence  of  the  unprincipled  fellow 


82  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

beside  him,  who  was  now  coolly  leading  him  on 
to  his  ruin. 

Presently  they  turned  up  a  side  street,  and 
soon  stopped  before  a  low,  ugly  building. 

"The  museum  is  on  the  next  street,"  re- 
marked young  Smartweed,  as  he  rang  the  bell 
three  times.  ' '  We  have  to  walk  through  this 
court  to  reach  it  by  the  back  passage." 

Still  Herbert's  suspicions  slumbered. 

And  now  the  catch  to  the  door  was  pulled  back, 
and  our  unfortunate  hero  and  his  companion 
passed  in.  The  hallway  was  ominously  dark. 
They  groped  their  way  forward  till  a  second  door 
was  reached,  and  here  the  leader  knocked  three 
times,  then  paused  for  a  moment  and  knocked 
once  more.  After  a  brief  interval  three  more 
knocks  precisely  like  the  first  were  given,  and 
then  the  door  opened. 

The  two  stepped  quickly  into  the  room,  and 
Herbert's  arms  were  instantly  seized  by  some  one 
from  behind  the  door,  and  drawn  backward  by  an 
effort  to  fasten  the  wrists  together  behind  him. 
Quicker  than  thought,  young  Randolph  wrested 
his  arms  from  the  grip  that  was  upon  them,  and 
turning  like  a  flash,  planted  a  solid  blow  upon 
the  jaw  of  his  assailant — a  blow  which  sent  him, 
with  a  terrified  yell,  sprawling  to  the  floor. 

Then  it  was  that  he  recognized,  in  the  pros- 
trate figure,  Felix  Mortimer,  and  a  sickening 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  83 

sense  of  the  awful  truth  dawned  upon  him.     He. 
was  trapped  ! 

The  genial  friend  whom  he  had  met  on  the 
Bowery  now  showed  his  real  character,  and 
before  Herbert  could  further  defend  himself,  he 
was  pounced  upon  by  him  and  a  villainous  look- 
ing man  with  a  scraggy  red  beard  and  most  repul- 
sive features.  They  threw  a  thick,  black  cloth 
over  his  head,  and  after  binding  his  hands  firmly 
together,  thrust  him  into  a  dark  vault,  or  pen,  in 
the  cellar. 

Our  hero  realized  now  most  fully  his  helpless 
and  defenseless  position — a  position  that  placed 
him  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  his  enemies,  if 
mercy  in  any  degree  dwelt  in  the  breasts  of  the 
cruel  band  of  outlaws  in  whose  den  he  was  now 
a  prisoner. 


XI. 


'"  *~PHIS  is  a  fine  beginning  to  a  city  career — 
short  but  brilliant, ' '  said  young  Randolph 
to  himself  bitterly,  as  lie  mused  upon  his  deplor- 
able situation. 

"Fool  that  I  was  !  It's  all  plain  enough  to 
me  now,"  he  continued,  after  a  half  hour's  deep 
thought,  in  which  he  traced  back,  step  by  step, 
his  experiences  since  landing  in  the  big  city.  ' '  I 
ought  to  have  recognized  him  at  once — the 
villain  !  He  is  the  very  fellow  I  saw  across  the 
street  with  his  pal,  as  I  left  the  bank.  I  thought 
he  looked  familiar,  but  I've  seen  so  many  people 
in  this  great  town  that  I'm  not  surprised  at  my 
miss.  Mighty  bad  miss,  though  ;  one  that  has 
placed  me  in  a  box  trap,  and  under  ground  at 
that." 

Herbert  was  right  in  his  conclusions.  The 
fellow  who  had  so  cleverly  played  the  confidence 
game  upon  him  was  the  same  one  who  awaited 
his  appearance  in  Wall  Street,  and  afterwards 
shadowed  him  up  Broadway. 

' '  This  must  be  the  work  of  that  young  villain 
Mortimer,"  continued  Herbert,  still  reasoning  on 
84 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  85 

the  subject.  "I  ought  to  have  been  sharper; 
Bob  told  me  to  look  out  for  him.  If  I  had  had 
any  sense,  I  could  have  seen  that  he  meant  to  be 
revenged  upon  me.  I  knew  it,  and  yet  I  didn't 
want  to  admit,  even  to  myself,  that  I  was  at  all 
uneasy.  He  must  have  been  the  same  one  that 
pointed  me  out  to  this  confidence  fellow  on  Wall 
Street.  He  was  probably  made  up  with  false  side 
whiskers  and  mustache,  so  that  I  wouldn't  recog- 
nize him. 

"Well,"  said  he,  starting  up  suddenly  from 
his  reverie,  "  how  is  all  this  reasoning  about  how 
I  came  to  get  into  this  trap  going  to  help  me  to 
get  out  of  it  ?  That  is  what  I  want  to  know  ;  ' ' 
and  he  commenced  exploring  his  dark,  damp  cell 
in  search  of  some  clue  that  would  aid  him  in 
solving  the  problem. 

He  was  not  alarmed  about  his  personal  safety. 
Up  to  this  time,  happity,  no  such  thought  had 
entered  his  mind.  He  sanguinely  looked  upon 
his  imprisonment  as  merely  temporary. 

In  this  opinion,  however,  he  erred  greatly. 
The  same  rural  credulity  that  made  him  the  victim 
of  Peter  Smartweed  now  led  him  to  suppose  that 
the  unscrupulous  rascals  who  held  him  a  prisoner 
would  soon  release  him.  He  looked  upon  the 
matter  as  simply  one  of  revenge  on  the  part  of 
Mortimer.  He  little  realized  his  true  situation, 
and  did  not  even  dream  of  the  actual  significance 


86  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

of  his  imprisonment.  He  therefore  felt  a  sense  of 
genuine  consolation  when  he  thought  of  the  well 
deserved  blow  he  had  delivered  upon  his  enemy's 
jaw  ;  and  several  times,  as  he  prowled  around 
the  cell,  he  laughed  heartily,  thinking  of  Mor- 
timer's ridiculous  appearance  as  he  lay  stretched 
upon  the  floor. 

Herbert  Randolph  was  full  of  human  nature, 
and  human  nature  of  the  best  sort — warm  blooded, 
natural,  sensible.  There  was  nothing  pale  and 
attenuated  about  him.  He  was  full  of  spirits,  was 
manly,  kind,  and  generous,  and  yethe  could  appre- 
ciate heartily  a  point  honorably  gained  on  the 
enemy.  Thus,  instead  of  giving  himself  up  to 
despair  and  grief,  he  tried  to  derive  all  the  com- 
fort possible  out  of  his  situation. 

His  cell  was  dark  as  night.  He  could  not  see 
his  own  hands,  and  the  dampness  and  must)' 
odor,  often  noticeable  in  old  cellars,  added  much 
to  his  discomfort.  He  found  that  the  cell  was 
made  of  strong  three  inch  slats,  securely  bolted 
to  thick  timbers.  These  strips,  or  slats,  were 
about  three  inches  apart.  The  door  was  made  in 
the  same  manner,  and  was  fastened  with  a  pad- 
lock. Altogether  his  cell  was  more  like  a  cage 
than  anything  else  ;  however,  it  seemed  designed 
to  hold  him  securely  against  all  efforts  to  escape 
from  his  captors. 

The  door,   as  previously  stated,  was  fastened 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  87 

by  a  padlock.  Herbert  learned  this  by  putting 
his  hands  through  the  slats,  and  carefully  going 
over  every  part  of  the  fastening  arrangement. 

This  discovery  gave  him  slight  hopes.  The 
lock  he  judged  to  be  one  of  the  ordinary  cheap 
ones,  such  as  his  father  always  used  on  his  corn 
house  and  barn  doors.  Now,  he  had  on  several 
occasions  opened  these  locks  by  means  of  a  stiff 
wire  properly  bent.  Therefore,  should  this  lock 
prove  to  be  one  of  the  same  kind,  and  should  for- 
tune place  within  his  reach  a  suitable  piece  of 
wire,  or  even  a  nail  of  the  right  sort,  he  felt  that 
he  could  make  good  his  escape  from  this  cell. 

"  But  should  I  succeed  in  this,"  he  very  pru- 
dently reasoned,  ' '  would  I  be  any  better  off  ? 
That  heavy  trap  door  is  undoubtedly  fastened 
down,  and,  so  far  as  I  know,  that  is  the  only 
means  of  exit ;  but What  is  that  ?  "  he  sud- 
denly said  to  himself,  as  he  felt  the  cold  shivers 
creep  over  him. 

The  sound  continues.  It  seems  like  rasping 
or  grating.  L,ouder  and  more  distinct  it  grows, 
as  Herbert's  imagination  becomes  more  active. 

Every  sound,  to  one  in  his  situation,  in  that 
dark,  lonesome  cellar,  could  easily  be  interpreted 
to  mean  many  forms  of  danger  to  him.  But  at 
length  he  reasons,  from  the  irregular  rasping,  and 
from  other  slight  evidences,  that  this  noise  is  the 
gnawing  of  hungry  rats. 


88  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

What  a  frightful  and  alarming  discovery  this 
is  to  him  !  It  strikes  terror  to  his  brave  young 
heart,  and  makes  cold  beads  of  perspiration  stand 
out  upon  his  brow.  And  as  these  silent  drops — 
the  evidence  of  suffering — trickle  down  his  face 
one  by  one,  chilly  and  dispiriting,  he  grows  sick 
to  the  very  core. 

Alone  in  a  dark,  damp  cellar,  with  no  means  of 
defense — not  even  a  stick,  a  knife,  or  any  sort  of 
implement  to  protect  himself  from  the  hordes 
of  rats  that  now  surround  him. 

This,  indeed,  is  a  night  of  terror  to  our  young 
hero.  He  does  not  dare  to  throw  himself  upon 
the  bench,  lest  he  should  sleep,  and,  sleeping,  be 
attacked  by  these  dreadful  rats. 

Accordingly,  he  commenced  walking  back  and 
forth  in  his  cell,  as  a  caged  tiger  walks  hour  after 
hour  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  his  narrow 
confines. 

"This  will  keep  me  awake,"  said  he  to  him- 
self, with  an  attempt  to  rouse  his  spirits  ;  ' '  and 
it  will  also  keep  the  rats  away. ' ' 

After  he  had  paced  thus  for  a  time,  he  heard 
steps  above  him,  and  instantly  he  called  out  for 
aid.  He  called  again  and  again,  but  the  inhu- 
man ear  of  old  Gunwagner  was  deaf  to  his 
imploring  cries. 

The  sound  of  footsteps  was  soon  lost,  and  all 
was  still  save  the  gnawing  of  the  rats.  Herbert 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  89 

listened  quietly  for  a  time,  to  study  their  move- 
ments. Soon  he  heard  them  scampering  about  in 
all  parts  of  the  cellar.  From  the  noise  they  made 
he  judged  them  to  be  very  large  ;  and  they  were 
certainly  bold,  for  now  they  were  running  about 
in  contemptuous  disregard  of  young  Randolph's 
presence.  Occasionally  he  would  yell  at  them, 
and  kick  vigorously  upon  the  framework  of  his 
cell.  By  this  means  he  kept  them  at  a  somewhat 
respectful  distance. 

And  now  his  mind  reverted  again  to  the  cause 
of  his  imprisonment.  As  the  long,  weary  hours 
dragged  by,  he  studied  the  matter  with  the  utmost 
care,  giving  painstaking  thought  to  the  slightest 
details  and  the  most  trivial  acts.  His  points  were, 
consequently,  well  made.  They  were  reasonable, 
logical,  probable.  The  scheme  broadened  as  he 
progressed.  What  he  had  supposed  to  be  a  mere 
matter  of  revenge  now  loomed  up  clearly  and 
distinctly  before  him  as  a  bold  plot  against  him- 
self— a  piece  of  outrageous  villainy  that  fairly 
appalled  him. 

He  saw  Felix  Mortimer  in  his  place  in  the 
bank  ;  saw  himself  looked  upon  by  Mr.  Goldwin 
with  suspicion  and  disgust.  And  this  feeling,  he 
knew,  would  extend  to  his  daughter — bright, 
winsome  Ray. 

It  was  odd  that  Herbert  should  think  of  her  in 
this  connection  while  in  such  mental  agony.  He 


90  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

had  seen  her  but  once,  and  then  only  for  a 
minute.  True,  she  was  wonderfully  pretty,  and 
her  manner  was  irresistibly  attractive,  but  young 
Randolph  was  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind.  No,  he 
was  not  one  to  become  infatuated  with  any  girl, 
however  charming ;  he  never  had  been,  and,  to 
use  his  own  language,  he  did  not  propose  to 
become  so.  But  he  could  not  help  thinking  of 
Ray  in  connection  with  this  matter.  He  recalled 
how  her  sunny  presence  lighted  up  the  bank 
that  afternoon,  and  in  imagination  he  saw  her 
bright,  mischievous  blue  eyes,  brimful  of  fun  and 
merriment,  as  he  handed  her  into  her  carriage. 

' '  She  did  look  sweet,  confounded  if  she  didn't, ' ' 
said  Herbert  to  himself,  forgetting  for  the  time 
his  sorrow  ;  "sweet  and  pretty  as  a  peach,  and 
her  cheeks  had  the  same  rich,  delicate  tint.  Her 
hair Great  Scott  !  "  ejaculated  young  Ran- 
dolph, suddenly  awaking  to  what  he  had  been 
saying.  "  Another  evidence  of  my  being  a  fool. 
I'd  better  have  stayed  on  the  farm,"  he  con- 
tinued, more  or  less  severely. 

"Well,  I'm  a  prisoner,"  he  said  sadly,  after  a 
thoughtful  pause.  "It  doesn't  matter  much 
what  I  think  or  say.  But,  somehow  or  other,  I 
wish  I  had  never  seen  her,"  he  continued  medi- 
tatively. "  Now  she  will  think  of  me  only  with 
contempt,  just  as  her  father  will.  Of  course  she 
will ;  it  would  be  only  natural." 


THE;  BOY  BROKER.  91 

Exhausted,  weary,  and  even  overburdened  with 
oppressive  thought,  he  sat  down  on  the  wooden 
bench  in  his  cell.  The  rats  still  gnawed  and 
frolicked,  and  prowled  at  will.  Herbert  listened 
to  them  for  a  moment ;  then  he  thought  of  his 
dear  mother  and  father,  of  his  home,  his  own 
comfortable  bed. 

A  stray  tear  now  stole  down  his  cheeks,  and 
then  another.  The  poor  boy  was  overcome,  and 
he  gave  way  to  a  sudden  outburst  of  grief. 
Then  he  rested  his  head  in  his  hand,  and  tried  to 
think  again.  But  his  mind  was  wearied  to 
exhaustion. 

"My  mother,  my  mother  and  father!  Oh, 
how  I  wish  I  could  see  them  !  What  would  they 
do  if  they  only  knew  where  I  am  ?  ' ' 

He  paused  after  this  utterance  ;  and  now  his 
thoughts  suddenly  ceased  their  weary  wander- 
ings. All  was  quiet,  and  the  long  measured 
breathing  gave  evidence  that  our  young  hero 
slept. 


XII. 

I  say,  Bob,  I  don't  jest  see  how  we  are 
goin'  to  get  into  that  den,"  said  Tom 
Flannery  thoughtfully,  as  he  and  his  companion 
hurried  along  towards  old  Gunwagner's. 

"  Don't  you?  "  replied  Bob  carelessly,  as  if  the 
matter  was  of  trivial  importance. 

"  No,  I  don't.     Do  you,  Bob?  " 

"Do  you  think,  Tom  Flannery,  that  a  detec- 
tive is  goin'  to  tell  all  he  knows — is  goin'  to  give 
away  the  game  before  it's  played?"  said  Bob, 
with  feigned  displeasure. 

He  asked  this  question  to  evade  the  one  put  to 
him. 

' '  I  thought  they  always  told  them  as  was  in 
the  secret,  don't  they  ?  " 

"Well,  I  must  say  you  have  some  of  the  igno- 
rantest  ideas  of  any  boy  \  ever  see,"  said  Bob, 
with  assumed  surprise. 

Young  Flannery  looked  sad,  and  made  no 
reply. 

"The  trouble  with  you,  Tom,  is  that  you 
worry  too  much,"  continued  the  juvenile  detec- 
tive. 

92 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  93 

"  I  ain't  worry  in',  Bob.  What  made  you  think 
that  ?  I  only  wanted  to  know  what's  the  racket, 
an'  what  I've  got  to  do." 

"Well,  you  s'pose  I  bro't  you  up  here  to  do 
somethin',  don't  you?  " 

"Of  course  you  did,  Bob.  But  what  is  it? 
That's  what  I  want  to  know." 

' '  You  ask  more  questions  than  any  feller  I  ever 
see,  Tom  Flannery.  Now  you  jest  tell  me  what 
any  detective  would  do,  on  a  case  like  this  one 
is,  and  tell  me  what  he'd  want  you  to  do,  an' 
then  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do." 

Tom  looked  grave,  and  tried  hard  to  think. 

The  fact  of  the  matter  is  that  Bob  himself 
hardly  knew  what  step  to  take  next  in  order  to 
carry  out  the  plan  he  had  formed.  But  his  repu- 
tation was  at  stake.  He  thought  he  must  make 
a  good  showing  before  Tom,  though  the  matter 
of  gaining  an  entrance  to  Gunwagner's  was  far 
from  clear  to  him.  He  therefore  wanted  Tom's 
opinion,  but  it  would  not  do  to  ask  him  for  it,  so 
he  adopted  this  rather  sharp  device. 

"Blamed  if  I  can  tell,  Bob,  what  a  detective 
would  do,"  replied  Tom.  "You  see  I  ain't  no 
natural  detective,  like  you.  But  I  should  think 
he'd  swoop  down  on  the  den  and  scoop  it." 

"  And  that's  what  you  think  a  reg'lar  detective 
would  do?" 

"  Yes.    I  don't  see  nothin'  else  for  him  to  do. " 


94  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Well,  how  would  he  do  it?  " 

"  I  ain't  no  detective,  Bob,  so  I  don't  know." 

"  I  didn't  s'pose  you  did  know,  Tom  Flannery, 
so  now  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Bob,  who  had  seized 
upon  his  companion's  suggestion.  "A  regular 
detective,  if  he  was  in  my  place,  and  had  you  to 
help  him,  would  do  jest  what  I'm  going  to  do, 
and  that  is  to  send  you  into  the  den  first,  to  see 
what  you  can  find  out." 

"  Send  me  in  ?  "  exclaimed  Tom  incredulously. 

"  Yes,  that's  what  I  said,  wasn't  it?  " 

"And  that's  what  a  reg'lar  detective  would 
do?" 

"Yes." 

"  And  that's  what  you're  goin'  to  do  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course  it  is.  Why  wouldn't  I  do  the 
same  as  any  other  detective  ?  That's  what  I  want 
to  know. ' ' 

"Of  course  you  would,  Bob,  but  I  couldn't 
do  nothin'  if  I  should  go  iu,"  said  xTom,  gently 
protesting  against  the  proposed  plan  of  action. 

"  You  can  do  what  I  tell  you  to,  can't  you  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  nothin'  about  it,  any  way,  I  tell 
you,"  replied  Tom,  showing  more  plainly  his  dis- 
inclination to  obedience. 

"Tom  Flannery,  I  wouldn't  er  believed  that 
you  would  back  out  this  way,"  said  Bob,  with 
surprise. 

"  Well,  I  don't  want  to  be  a  detective  no  way. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  95 

I  don't  care  nothin'  about  my  name  bein'  in  the 
paper. ' ' 

"You  hain't  got  no  ambition.  If  you  had, 
you'd  show  some  spunk  now.  'Tain't  often  a 
feller  has  a  chance  to  get  into  a  case  like  this 
one  is. ' ' 

"  Well,  I  don't  care  if  it  ain't ;  that's  what  I 
say." 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  be  a  detective, 
and  couldn't  wait,  hardly,  for  me  to  work  up  the 
case." 

"  Well,  I  didn't  think  I'd  have  to  climb  into 
places  like  this  old  Gunwagner's.  'Tain't  what 
I  call  bein'  a  detective  no  way. ' ' 

"  You  make  me  tired,  Tom  Flaunery.  You  get 
the  foolishest  notions  into  your  head  of  any  boy 
I  ever  see." 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  I  do.  I  know  plenty 
detectives  don't  do  nothin'  like  this.  They  jest 
dress  up  and  play  the  gentleman  ;  that's  what 
they  do. ' ' 

"  And  that's  the  kind  of  a  detective  you  want 
to  be,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is  ;  there  ain't  no  danger  about  that 
kind  of  beiu'  a  detective." 

"Tom,  you'd  look  great  tryin'  to  be  a  gentle- 
man, wouldn't  3"ou?  I'd  like  to  see  you,  Tom 
Flannery,  a  gentleman  !  "  said  Bob  derisively. 
"  It  makes  me  sick — such  talk." 


96  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Tom  was  silent  for  a  time.  Evidently  he 
thought  there  was  some  ground  for  Bob's  re- 
marks. 

But  an  idea  occurred  to  him  now. 

"Bob,"  said  he,  "  if  you  like  bein'  this  kind 
of  a  detective,  why  don't  you  go  in  yourself, 
instead  of  seudin'  me?  Now,  answer  me  that, 
will  you  ?" 

"  It  wouldn't  be  reg'lar  professional  like,  and 
then  there  wouldn't  be  no  style  about  it." 

Tom  made  no  reply.  In  fact,  there  seemed 
nothing  further  for  him  to  say  ;  Bob's  answer 
left  no  chance  for  argument. 

The  two  boys  now  stood  opposite  Gunwagner's. 
Presently  a  boy  with  a  package  in  his  hand 
approached  the  house,  and  looking  nervously 
about  him,  as  if  he  feared  he  was  watched, 
walked  up  the  stoop  and  rang  the  bell  three 
times.  He  did  not  see  the  two  young  detectives, 
as  they  were  partially  hidden  by  a  telegraph  pole. 

After  a  time  the  door  opened,  and  he  passed  in. 
Bob  noticed  that  it  was  very  dark  inside,  and 
wondered  why  no  light  shone. 

"I  couldn't  get  in,  nohow,  if  I  wanted  to," 
said  Tom,  trying  to  justify  himself  for  his  seem- 
ing cowardice. 

' '  Does  look  so, "  assented  Bob  absent  mindedly. 
"I  wouldn't  like  to  be  a  prisoner  in  there; 
would  you,  Bob?  " 


\ 

THE  BOY  BROKER.  97 

"  No,  of  course  I  wouldn't." 

' '  I  wish  we  could  get  your  chum  out. ' ' 

"  I  wish  so,  too  ;  but  you  don't  s'pose  we  can 
do  it  by  standing  here,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  don't  know  nothin'  to  do  ;  do  you, 
Bob?" 

"  If  I  told  you  what  to  do,  you  wouldn't  do  it. ' ' 

"Well,  I  didn't  see  no  sense  in  my  goin'  in 
there  alone,  nohow." 

"  I  did,  if  you  didn't.  I  wanted  you  to  look 
round  and  see  what  you  could  find  out,  and  post 
me,  so  when  I  went  in  I  could  do  the  grand  act." 

"I  wouldn't  a'  got  out  to  post  you,  Bob. 
They'd  a'  kept  me — that's  what  they'd  done." 

The  door  now  opened,  and  out  came  the  same 
boy  who  but  a  few  minutes  before  had  entered 
the  Gunwaguer  den.  He  looked  cautiously  about 
him,  and  then  started  down  the  street  toward  the 
Bast  River.  He  was  a  small  boy,  of  about  twelve 
years  of  age,  while  our  two  detectives  were  sev- 
eral years  his  senior.  From  remarks  dropped  by 
Felix  Mortimer  and  Peter  Smartweed,  Bob  sur- 
mised that  Gunwagner  might  keep  a  fence,  and 
the  actions  of  this  small  boy  confirmed  his  belief. 

' '  Here's  our  chance, ' '  whispered  Bob  nervously. 
"  You  follow  this  boy  up,  and  don't  let  him  get 
away  from  you.  I'll  rush  ahead  and  cut  him  off. 
Keep  close  to  him,  so  we  can  corner  him  when  I 
whistle  three  times." 


98  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  All  right,"  said  Tom,  with  his  old  show  of 
enthusiasm,  atid  each  commenced  the  pursuit. 

Between  Allen  and  Orchard  Streets  the  detec- 
tives closed  in  on  the  small  boy.  Bob  had  put 
himself  fairly  in  front  of  him,  and  Tom  followed 
close  behind.  The  chief  detective  slackened  his 
pace  very  perceptibly,  and  seemed  to  be  trying  to 
make  out  the  number  on  the  house  before  which 
he  now  halted. 

1 '  Can  you  tell  me  where  old  Gunwagner 
lives?"  said  he,  addressing  the  small  boy,  who 
was  now  about  to  pass  by. 

The  boy  stopped  suddenly,  and  the  color  as 
suddenly  left  his  face. 

Bob  had  purposely  chosen  this  locality,  close  to 
a  gaslight,  so  that  he  might  note  the  effect  of  his 
question  upon  the  boy.  Now  he  gave  the  signal 
as  agreed  upon,  and  Tom  instantly  came  up  and 
took  a  position  that  made  retreat  for  the  lad 
impossible.  The  latter  saw  this,  and  burst  into 
tears.  Conscious  of  his  own  guilt,  he  needed  no 
further  accuser  to  condemn  him. 

"  Don't  take  it  so  hard,"  said  Bob  ;  "  you  do 
the  square  thing,  and  we  won't  blow  on  you — 
will  we,  Tom  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  we  won't,"  replied  the  latter. 

"  We  saw  you  when  you  went  into  Gunwag- 
ner's — saw  the  package  in  your  hand,  and  know 
the  whole  game,"  continued  Bob.  "  Now,  if  you 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  99 

will  help  us  put  up  a  job,  why,  we  will  let  you 
off ;  but  if  you  don't  come  down  square  and  do 
the  right  thing,  why,  we  will  jest  run  you  in,  and 
you'll  get  a  couple  of  years  or  more  on  the  Island. 
Now  what  do  you  say  ?  ' ' 

' '  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  sobbed  the 
small  boy,  trembling  with  fear. 

' '  I  want  you  to  go  back  with  us,  and  take  me 
into  Gunwagner's." 

Tom  was  an  interested  listener,  for  he  knew 
nothing  about  Bob's  plans  or  purposes. 

From  further  questionings,  and  many  threats, 
our  detectives  found  that  a  number  of  boys  were  in 
the  habit  of  taking  stolen  goods  to  this  miserable 
old  fence.  The  number  mixed  up  in  the  affair 
Bob  did  not  learn,  but  he  ascertained  the  fact  that 
Felix  Mortimer  had  often  been  seen  there  by  this 
lad. 

' '  Now  me  and  Tom  are  doin'  the  detective 
business, ' '  said  the  chief  ;  ' '  and  if  you  want  to  be 
a  detective  with  us,  you  can  join  right  in." 

"  I  want  to  go  home,"  sobbed  the  boy. 

"  Well,  you  can't,  not  now,"  said  Bob  emphati- 
cally. "We  hain't  got  no  time  for  nonsense. 
You've  either  got  to  go  along  with  me  and  Tom, 
and  help  us,  or  we  will  run  you  in.  Now  which 
will  you  do  ?  " 

The  boy  yielded  to  the  eloquence  of  the  chief 
detective,  and  accompanied  him  and  Tom  back  to 


100  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

old  Gumvagner's.  The  boldness  of  this  move 
captured  young  Flannery's  admiration. 

"  Now  this  is  what  I  call  bein'  detectives,  Bob," 
whispered  he.  "  Gewhittaker  !  I  didn't  think, 
though,  you  could  do  it  so  grand.  I  don't  believe 
nobody  could  beat  you. ' ' 

Bob  nodded  his  approval  of  the  compliment, 
and  then  addressed  himself  to  the  young  lad. 

"I  want  you,"  said  he,  "to  take  me  in  and 
say  I'm  a  friend  of  yours  who  wants  to  sell  some- 
thin'.  You  needn't  do  nothin'  more.  Every 
detective  puts  up  jobs  like  this,  so  'tain't  tellin' 
nothin'  wrong." 

Then,  turning  to  his  companion,  he  added  : 

"  Now,  Tom,  if  this  boy  ain't  square,  and  he 
does  anything  so  I  get  into  Guuwagner's  clutches, 
and  can't  get  out,  why,  I  want  you  to  go  for  an 
officer,  and  come  and  arrest  this  boy  and  the 
whole  gang." 

The  lad  trembled.  "  I  won't  do  nothin',"  he 
protested.  "  I'll  do  just  what  you  want  me  to." 

"  All  right ;  you  do  so,  and  you'll  save  your- 
self a  visit  to  the  Island.  Now,  when  I  am  talk- 
ing with  old  Gunwagner,  if  I  tell  you  to  come 
outside  and  get  the  package  I  left  at  the  door, 
why,  you  come  jest  as  if  I  did  have  it  there,  and 
you  come  right  straight  for  Tom,  and  he  will  tell 
you  what  to  do.  And  mind  you  be  sure  and 
don't  close  the  outside  door,  for  I  want  you  to 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  IOI 

leave  it  so  you  and  Tom  can  get  in  without 
ringing  the  bell,  for  that's  the  secret  of  the  whole 
job." 

The  boy  readily  assented  to  Bob's  conditions 
and  commands,  and  then  the  chief  gave  his  com- 
panion secret  instructions,  to  be  acted  upon  after 
he  himself  had  gone  into  the  very  den  of  the  c  d. 
fence. 


XIII. 

T  T  was  towards  morning  when  Herbert  Randolph 
fell  asleep  on  the  night  of  his  imprisonment. 
He  had  fought  manfully  to  keep  awake,  dreading 
the  consequences  of  slumber,  but  tired  nature 
gave  way  at  last,  and  our  young  hero  slept, 
unconscious  now  of  danger. 

The  rats  that  he  so  much  feared  still  frolicked 
and  prowled  and  gnawed,  as  they  had  done  for 
hours.  They  climbed  upon  boxes  and  barrels, 
and  made  their  way  into  every  corner  and  crev- 
ice. Everything  was  inspected  by  them. 

More  inquisitive  rats  than  these  never  infested 
the  metropolis.  Now  they  went  in  droves,  and 
scampered  from  place  to  place  like  a  flock  of 
frightened  sheep.  Then  they  strayed  apart,  and 
prowled  for  a  time  alone.  An  occasional  fight 
came  off  by  way  of  variety,  and  in  these  battles 
the  vanquished,  and  perhaps  their  supporters, 
often  squealed  like  so  many  young  pigs. 

Thus  the  carousal  continued  hour  after  hour, 
and  that  old  Gunwagner  cellar  was  for  the  time 
a  diminutive  bedlam.  Our  young  hero,  neverthe- 
less, slept  on  and  on,  unconscious  of  this  racket. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  103 

After  a  while  the  rats  grew  bolder.  Their 
curiosity  became  greater,  and  then  they  began  to 
investigate  more  carefully  the  state  of  things 
within  the  prison  cell,  and  at  length  their  atten- 
tion was  turned  to  the  quiet  sleeper. 

Well  bred  rats  are  always  cautious,  and  there- 
fore are  somewhat  respectful ;  but  the  drove  at 
old  Gunwaguer's  did  not  show  this  desirable 
trait.  In  fact,  they  were  not  unlike  the  old  fence 
himself — daring,  avaricious,  and  discourteous.  No 
better  proof  of  this  could  be  instanced  than  their 
disreputable  treatment  of  our  young  hero. 

Rats,  as  a  rule,  show  a  special  fondness  for 
leather.  Undoubtedly  it  is  palatable  to  them. 
But  this  fact  would  not  justify  them  in  the 
attempt  they  made  to  appropriate  to  themselves 
Herbert's  boots.  The  propriety  of  such  an  act 
was  most  questionable,  and  no  well  mannered 
rats  would  have  allowed  themselves  to  become  a 
party  to  such  a  raid.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
and  as  Herbert  learned  to  his  sorrow,  there  were 
no  well  mannered  rats  at  old  Gunwagner's — none 
but  a  thieving,  quarrelsome  lot. 

After  a  council  of  war  had  been  held,  and  a 
great  amount  of  reconnoitering  had  been  done, 
it  was  decided  that  these  rural  boots  could  not  be 
removed  from  their  rightful  owner  in  their  pres- 
ent shape  ;  therefore  they  fell  vigorously  to  work 
to  reduce  them  to  a  more  movable  condition. 


104  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

When  Herbert  fell  asleep,  he  was  sitting  on  a 
bench  with  his  feet  upon  the  floor.  He  was  still 
in  this  position,  with  his  head  resting  in  his 
hand,  and  his  elbow  supported  by  the  side  of  his 
prison  cell,  when  the  rats  made  war  on  his  boots. 
They  gnawed  and  chipped  away  at  them  at  a 
lively  rate,  and  in  a  little  time  the  uppers  were 
entirely  destroyed.  The  cotton  linings,  to  be 
sure,  were  still  intact,  as  these  they  did  not 
trouble.  Evidently  cotton  cloth  was  not  a  tempt- 
ing diet  for  them. 

Up  to  this  time  Herbert  had  not  moved  a 
muscle  since  he  fell  asleep,  but  now  a  troubled 
dream,  or  something  else,  I  know  not  what,  dis- 
turbed him.  Possibly  it  was  the  continued  gnaw- 
ing on  his  already  shattered  boots.  It  might, 
however,  have  been  the  fear  of  these  dreadful 
rats,  or  the  repulsive  image  of  old  Gunwagner, 
that  haunted  him  and  broke  the  soundness  of  his 
slumbers. 

Presently  he  opened  his  eyes  drowsily,  and  his 
first  half  wraking  impression  was  the  peculiar 
sensation  at  his  feet.  In  another  instant  a  full 
realization  of  the  cause  of  this  feeling  darted  into 
his  mind,  and  with  a  pitiful  cry  of  terror  he 
bounded  into  the  air  like  a  frightened  deer.  And 
to  add  to  the  horror  of  his  situation,  in  descend- 
ing his  right  foot  came  down  squarely  upon  one 
of  the  rats,  which  emitted  a  strange  cry,  a  sort  of 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  IO5 

squeal,  that  sent  a  thrill  throughout  every  nerve 
of  our  hero's  body. 

A  second  leap  [brought  him  standing  upon  the 
bench  upon  which  he  had  been  sitting. 

If  ever  a  boy  had  good  reason  to  be  fright- 
ened, it  was  Herbert  Randolph.  His  situation 
was  one  to  drive  men  mad — in  that  dark,  damp 
cellar,  thus  surrounded  and  beset  by  this  count- 
less horde  of  rats.  The  cold  perspiration  stood 
out  upon  him,  and  he  trembled  with  an  uncon- 
trollable fear. 

Something  was  wrong  with  his  feet.  He 
knew  that,  for  his  shoes  now  barely  hung  upon 
them.  To  what  extent  the  rats  had  gone  he 
dreaded  to  know.  Already  he  could  feel  his  feet 
smart  and  burn  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Had  they 
received  poisonous  bites,  he  asked  himself?  The 
mere  suggestion  of  such  a  condition  to  one  in  his 
frightened  state  of  mind  was  quite  as  bad,  for  the 
time,  as  actual  wounds  would  have  been. 

A  rat  isn't  very  good  company  at  any  time. 
Under  the  most  favorable  conditions  his  presence 
has  a  tendency  to  send  people  upon  chairs  or  the 
nearest  table,  and  not  infrequently  they  do  this 
little  act  with  a  whoop  that  would  do  credit  to  a 
genuine  frontier  Indian.  When,  therefore,  we 
consider  this  fact,  it  is"  not  difficult  to  realize  the 
alarming  situation  in  which  our  young  hero  was, 
and  but  for  the  timely  sound  of  footsteps  over- 


106  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

head,  it  is  impossible  to  predict  the  possible  result 
of  this  terrible  mental  strain  on  him. 

The  night  had  worn  away,  the  old  fence  was 
again  on  the  move,  and  Herbert's  piercing  cry 
brought  him  to  the  room  over  the  cell.  No  sooner 
had  our  young  friend  heard  this  sound  above  his 
head  than  he  appealed  for  help.  So  alarming 
were  his  cries  that  even  old  Gunwagner  was  at 
length  moved  to  go  to  his  assistance.  He  retraced 
his  steps  to  the  front  of  the  house,  and  taking  a 
lighted  lamp  with  him,  passed  down  through  the 
trap  door,  and  then  made  his  way  into  the  rear 
cellar  to  Herbert's  cell. 

Never  before  in  his  life  had  the  presence  of  a 
human  being  been  so  welcome  as  was  that  of 
Gunwagner  to  our  frightened  hero.  What  a 
relief  to  this  oppressive  darkness  was  that  small 
lamplight,  and  how  quickly  it  drove  all  the  rats 
into  their  hiding  places. 

"What's  all  this  row  about  ?  "  growled  the  old 
fence. 

"These  rats !"  gasped  Herbert,  with  a  strange, 
wild  look.  "See,  they  have  bitten  me" — point- 
ing to  his  boots,  or  what  remained  of  them. 

Gunwagner 's  heart  softened  a  trifle  as  he  beheld 
the  boy's  sufferings,  and  saw  how  he  had  been 
assailed. 

"Are  you  sure  they  have  bit  you?"  said  he 
uneasily. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  107 

"  I^ook  !  See  !  "  replied  Herbert,  holding  out 
the  worst  mutilated  boot.  He  fully  believed  he 
had  been  bitten,  though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
had  not. 

The  old  fence  became  alarmed,  fearing  the 
annoyance  and  possible  danger  that  might  follow  ; 
but  when  he  had  satisfied  himself,  by  a  careful 
examination,  that  young  Randolph  had  sustained 
no  injuries,  he  speedily  changed  back  to  his  old 
hard  manner  again — a  cold,  cruel  manner  that 
showed  no  mercy. 

Herbert  begged  to  be  released  from  his  prison 
pen,  but  his  pleadings  were  of  no  avail. 

"  Why  are  you  treating  me  in  this  inhuman 
way  ?  ' '  asked  he.  ' '  What  have  I  done  that  I 
should  be  shut  up  here  by  you  ? ' ' 

Old  Gunwagner  looked  hard  at  him,  but  made 
no  reply. 

' '  I  know  why  it  is, ' '  continued  our  hero,  grow- 
ing bold  and  defiant  when  he  saw  it  was  useless 
to  plead  for  kindness ;  "  I  can  see  through  the 
whole  scheme  now  ;  but  you  mark  my  words,  old 
man,  you  will  suffer  for  this  cruelty,  and  so  will 
your  friend,  Felix  Mortimer." 

These  words  came  from  the  lips  of  the  young 
prisoner  with  such  terrible  emphasis  that  old  Gun- 
wagner, hardened  as  he  was  in  sin,  grew  pale, 
and  trembled  visibly  for  his  own  safety. 


XIV. 

T3OB  easily  gained  admittance  to  the  den  by  the 
aid  of  his  confederate.  He  found  there  old 
Gunwagner,  Felix  Mortimer,  and  another  boy, 
who  passed  out  just  after  the  young  detective 
entered.  The  old  fence  eyed  Bob  sharply,  and 
perhaps  somewhat  suspiciously.  The  manner  of 
the  small  boy  was  excited.  He  did  not  appear 
natural,  and  this  alone  was  sufficient  to  attract 
the  old  man's  attention. 

It  was  a  critical  moment  for  Bob.  He  did  not 
know  that  the  boy  would  not  turn  against  him. 
In  fact,  he  half  suspected  he  would,  but  never- 
theless he  was  willing  to  take  the  chance  in  the 
interest  of  Herbert,  and  also  that  he  might  do  a 
skilful  piece  of  detective  work.  Moreover,  there 
was  the  danger  of  being  recognized  by  Felix 
Mortimer,  who  had  seen  him  twice  that  very 
day  :  once  at  the  bank  in  the  morning,  and  again 
in  the  afternoon  when  Bob  played  the  r61e  of 
bootblack. 

Old  Gunwagner  questioned  him  sharply.  The 
small  boy,  however,  told  the  story  precisely  in 
accordance  with  Bob's  instructions.  The  young 
108 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  109 

detective  meanwhile  hastily  surveyed  the  room 
and  its  furnishings,  and  when  he  had  discovered 
what  he  thought  would  serve  his  purpose,  he 
turned  to  his  confederate,  and  said  : 

"Well,  I  believe  I'll  let  this  man  have  the 
things  I  brought  with  me.  You  may  go  out  and 
get  them,  and  bring  them  in  here." 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  them  in  with  you  ?  " 
asked  the  fence  suavely. 

"  I  didn't  know  as  we  could  trade,  so  I  thought 
I'd  better  leave  'em  outside,"  answered  Bob  care- 
lessly. 

When  Tom  saw  the  boy  come  out  alone,  he 
knew  the  part  he  was  to  act,  and  following  out 
the  directions  of  his  chief,  he  and  the  confeder- 
ate rushed  into  the  dark  passageway  leading  to 
the  fence,  and  yelled  "  Fire  !  "  with  all  the  power 
they  could  command.  Before  giving  the  alarm, 
however,  they  lighted  a  newspaper,  and  placed  it 
near  the  outer  door. 

Bob  had  purposely  made  his  way  to  a  far  cor- 
ner of  the  room  ;  so  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
was  farther  from  the  place  of  exit  than  either 
Mortimer  or  Gunwagner.  This  was  part  of  his 
scheme. 

When  the  cry  of  fire  reached  the  old  fence,  he 
bounded  to  the  door  like  a  frightened  deer. 
Throwing  it  open,  his  eyes  instantly  fell  upon  the 
great  flames  that  shot  up  from  the  burning  paper. 


110  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

The  sight  struck  terror  to  him,  and  with  an 
agouized  cry  he  rushed  down  the  hallway  to  the 
immediate  scene  of  the  conflagration,  with  Felix 
Mortimer  not  far  behind  him. 

A  gust  of  wind  now  blew  in  through  the  par- 
tially open  door,  and  scattered  the  charred 
remains  of  the  newspaper  all  about  the  feet  of  the 
fence.  In  a  few  seconds  all  traces  of  the  fire 
were  lost,  and  then  the  trick  dawned  upon  the 
old  man.  He  was  furious  with  rage,  and  ran  out 
into  the  street,  to  try  and  discover  the  perpetra- 
tors of  the  deed. 

Tom  and  the  confederate  remained  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street  till  Gunwagner  and 
Mortimer  appeared  at  the  door.  Bob  had  in- 
structed Tom  to  do  this. 

Both  Gunwagner  and  Felix  tumbled .  into  this 
trap,  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  skilful  one  for 
our  detective  to  set.  As  soon  as  they  caught 
sight  of  the  two  boys,  they  started  after  them  in 
hot  pursuit  ;  but  Tom  and  the  young  lad  were 
excellent  runners,  and  kept  well  ahead  of  them. 

Seeing,  therefore,  that  the  chase  was  a  hope- 
less one,  the  old  fence  and  Mortimer  returned  to 
the  den.  The  former  was  almost  desperately 
ugly.  He  growled  and  raved  in  a  frightful  man- 
ner, that  quite  alarmed  our  young  detective. 

"  What  has  become  of  that  new  boy  ?  "  asked 
Felix,  who  was  the  first  to  think  about  him. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  Ill 

Gunwagner  was  so  thoroughly  agitated  that  up 
to  this  time  he  had  not  thought  about  Bob.  At 
young  Mortimer's  reminder,  however,  he  stopped 
suddenly  in  his  ravings,  and  the  color  as  quickly 
left  his  face.  Then  he  hurried  to  where  a  box 
containing  silver  and  other  valuables  were  kept. 

"  It's  here,"  he  gasped,  almost  paralyzed  with 
the  fear  that  it  had  been  stolen  by  the  strange 
boy. 

"  Is  anything  else  missing  ?  "  asked  Felix. 

Our  young  detective  was  at  this  minute 
doubled  up  in  a  large  box  that  was  stowed  away 
under  a  sort  of  makeshift  counter.  He  had  hur- 
riedly concealed  himself  in  this  manner  during 
the  absence  of  the  fence  and  Felix. 

"I'll  look  things  over  and  see,"  said  old  Gun- 
wagner, replying  to  Mortimer's  question. 

Bob  thought  the  game  was  all  up  with  him 
now.  He  felt  much  as  Tom  Flannery  did.  He, 
too,  "  didn't  want  to  be  a  detective,  nohow." 

"There's  no  show  for  me  if  this  old  tyrant 
gets  his  hands  on  to  me,"  said  Bob  to  himself,  as 
he  lay  cramped  up  in  that  dirty  box,  hardly  dar- 
ing to  breathe.  "  I  didn't  think  about  it  comin' 
out  this  way  ;  if  I  had,  I  would  a'  fixed  things 
with  Tom  different.  Now  I  suppose  he's  gone 
home,  as  I  told  him  to,  and  I  can't  look  for  no 
help  from  him  or  nobody  else. ' ' 

The  situation  was  a  depressing  one,  and   it 


112  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

grew  more  so  as  the  mousing  old  fence  came 
nearer  and  nearer  to  where  our  young  detective 
lay.  He  searched  high  and  low  for  traces  of 
theft,  and  examined  everything  with  careful 
scrutiny. 

He  was  now  close  to  Bob's  hiding  place. 

"He  must  be  hid  away  here  somewhere," 
said  Felix,  with  a  very  anxious  look  upon  his  face. 

' '  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  "  asked  the  old 
man,  as  he  noticed  young  Mortimer's  anxiety. 

No  boy  ever  tried  harder  to  suppress  his  breath 
than  Bob  Hunter  did  at  this  instant.  "  It's  all 
up  with  me  now,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  They'll 
get  me  sure  ;  but  I'll  die  game." 

"It  looks  suspicious  to  me,  and  that's  why  I 
think  so,"  replied  Felix,  showing  no  little  alarm. 

"I  don't  see  nothing  suspicious  about  it,  as 
long  as  nothing  is  missing. ' ' 

' '  To  be  sure,  but  I  believe  he  is  the  same  boy 
that  was  in  the  bank  today  looking  for  this  Ran- 
dolph." 

' '  And  he  is  the  boy  that  the  old  banker  told 
you  about  ?  ' ' 

'  Yes  ;  the  newsboy  who  said  some  foul  play 
had  overtaken  Randolph. ' ' 

The  old  fence  looked  exceedingly  troubled. 

"We  must  capture  this  young  arab,"  said 
he  emphatically,  after  a  few  moments'  careful 
thought. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  113 

Bob's  ears  missed  nothing.  This  conversation 
interested  him  through  and  through. 

"Arab!"  said  he  to  himself.  "  If  I  don't 
get  caught  I'll  show  you  whether  I'm  an  arab 
or  not. ' ' 

"  Perhaps  he  is  already  in  there,"  suggested 
Mortimer  again. 

"We  will  go  down  cellar  and  see,"  said  the 
old  man.  ' '  He  might  have  gone  down  through 
that  trap  door  while  we  were  out." 

"  That's  what  I  thought  ;  and  he  and  Randolph 
may  already  be  hatching  up  some  plan  for  escap- 
ing," said  Felix. 

Why  old  Gunwagner  neglected  to  search  the 
big  box  under  the  counter  is  inexplicable.  Pos- 
sibly the  hand  of  destiny  shielded  the  young 
detective,  for  he  was  on  an  errand  of  mercy. 

The  old  man  and  Felix  now  descended  the 
stairs  into  the  cellar,  and  commenced  their  search 
for  the  strange  boy  who  had  so  thoroughly 
alarmed  them. 


XV. 

"  A  17" ELL,  I  can't  understand  it,"  said  Felix, 
as  he  and  the  old  fence  came  up  from 
the  cellar.  "  He  certainly  isn't  down  there." 

"  No,  he  ain't  here,  that's  sure,"  replied  Gun- 
wagner  ;  "  but  if  it  was  the  newsboy,  you  can  be 
sure  he  will  show  up  again  in  a  way  not  very  good 
for  us. ' ' 

"  So  I  think , ' '  assented  Mortimer. 

"  Then  we  must  capture  him  ;  that's  all." 

"  I  wish  we  could.  You  see  he  might  go  to 
old  Gold  win  again,  and  tell  him  he  saw  me  here." 

"Yes,  or  go  to  the  police  headquarters  and 
raise  a  row,"  suggested  Gunwagner  gloomily. 

"  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Well,  as  you  say,  the 
only  thing  for  us  to  do  is  to  capture  him  and  get 
him  where  he  won't  make  trouble  for  us." 

"The  whole  game  will  be  lost,  and  we  will  be 
pulled  by  the  police  unless  wTe  do  so." 

"You  might's  well  count  your  game  lost, 
then,"  said  Bob  to  himself,  for  he  had  now 
renewed  hope  of  carrying  through  his  scheme. 
But  he  was  nearly  paralyzed  with  pain  from  the 
cramped  and  uncomfortable  position  in  which  he 
114 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  115 

had  remained  so  long.  He  felt,  however,  that  he 
was  doing  a  great  detective  act,  so  he  bore  up 
under  his  sufferings  with  heroic  fortitude. 

' '  Suppose  the  police  should  drop  on  us,  and 
find  Randolph  in  the  cellar?"  suggested  young 
Mortimer. 

The  thought  evidently  alarmed  old  Gunwagner. 

"  If  they  should  do  that,  we  would  go  to  Sing 
Sing,"  returned  he  grimly. 

Felix  Mortimer  possessed  an  extremely  cool 
nerve,  but  the  words  ' '  Sing  Sing ' '  did  not  fall 
upon  his  ears  like  sweet  music. 

"  I  wish  we  could  get  him  out  of  the  way," 
said  he,  with  manifest  anxiety.  "It  must  be 
done  tomorrow." 

"There's  no  time  to  lose,  I  feel  sure.  But 
what  shall  be  done  with  him  ?  ' ' 

' '  He  must  be  put  where  he  will  never  blow 
on  us." 

"  Of  course  he  must." 

"  It's  a  bad  job—  a  dirty,  bad  job — that's  what 
I  call  it.  I  only  wish  you'd  kept  away  from  me 
with  your  devilish  scheme,"  said  the  old  villain 
petulantly. 

"  It's  no  time  to  talk  about  that  now,"  returned 
Mortimer  coolly.  "  You  are  in  for  it  as  well  as 
I,  so  we  must  work  together." 

' '  We  must,  must  we  ?  ' '  hissed  the  old  man 
wickedly. 


Il6  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  Yes, ' '  said  Mortimer,  with  a  determined 
manner,  that  made  the  old  outlaw  cower  and 
cringe.  Felix  Mortimer  possessed  the  stronger 
character  of  the  two,  and  now  he  was  aroused, 
Gumvagner  was  subservient  to  his  will. 

' '  Unless  you  show  yourself  a  man  now,  I  will 
leave  you  to  fight  it  out  alone,"  continued  Kelix. 
' '  I  can  take  care  of  myself.  Randolph  is  on 
your  hands,  and  here  the  police  will  find  him." 

L,ow,  profane  mutterings  from  the  old  cul- 
prit's mouth  now  filled  the  air.  He  was  cor- 
nered, and  Mortimer  had  him  at  his  mercy. 
Gunwagner  saw  this  now,  and  commenced  plan- 
ning to  get  our  young  hero  out  of  the  way. 

An  exceedingly  interesting  conversation  this 
proved  to  the  young  detective,  who  carefully 
gathered  in  every  word. 

"Something  is  liable  to  drop  with  you  fellers 
before  long,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  This  detec- 
tive business  is  mighty  excitiu',  if  it's  all  like 
this  is.  I  wonder  what  Tom  Flaunery  would  say 
now,  if  he  could  take  this  all  in  the  same  way 
I'mdoin'  it  !  " 

"I  s'pose  we  can  run  him  off  to  sea,"  said 
Gunwaguer,  at  length.  "That's  the  only  way  I 
know  to  get  him  out  of  the  way." 

"  Then  why  not  do  that  ?  "  replied  Mortimer. 

"  It  will  cost  a  lot  of  money." 

"  Better  to  pay  than  go  to  Sing  Sing." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  1 17 

The  old  fence  looked  daggers  at  the  author  of 
this  remark,  but  evidently  thought  it  best  to 
make  no  direct  reply. 

"I  wish  we  could  get  him  away  tonight," 
continued  young  Mortimer,  in  a  way  that  exas- 
perated Gunwagner. 

"Well,  you're  mighty  liable  to  be  accommo- 
dated," thought  Bob,  as  a  broad  grin  played  over 
his  face,  despite  the  suffering  he  was  enduring. 
"I'm  goin'  to  take  a  hand  in  this  business 
myself,  and  I'll  try  my  best  to  help  you  fellers 
through  with  this  job." 

"  No,  it  can't  be  done  tonight,"  said  the  old 
fence  gruffly  ;  "but  I'll  see  what  can  be  done 
tomorrow. ' ' 

' '  Fix  it  so  he  will  never  get  back  here  to  New 
York  again,"  said  Mortimer  heartlessly. 

"  Of  course  ;  that's  the  only  thing  to  do." 

' '  Remember,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  If  we 
get  tripped  up  here,  the  game  will  be  up  at  the 
bank,  and  our  trouble  will  come  to  nothing." 

' '  I  understand  that ;  but  you  have  said  noth- 
ing about  the  outlook  at  the  bank." 

"  I  have  had  no  chance.  Some  one  has  been 
here  all  the  evening. ' ' 

' '  You  have  the  chance  now. ' ' 

"  So  I  have;  but  there  is  nothing  to  say  yet. 
You  don't  expect  me  to  rob  a  bank  in  one  day, 
do  you  ?  ' ' 


Il8  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  No,  of  course  not ;  but  what  are  the  chances 
for  carrying  out  the  scheme  ?  ' ' 

"  Ah,  ha  !  "  said  the  young  detective  to  him- 
self. "  Bank  robbing,  is  it  ?  That's  the  scheme. 
Well,  this  detective  business  beats  me.  I  guess 
nobody  don't  often  get  a  more  excitin'  case  than 
this  one  is — that's  what  I  think." 

After  a  little  further  discussion  between  the 
two  crooks,  Mortimer  left  the  den  and  started  for 
home.  Bob  suspected  that  he  felt  very  happy  to 
get  away  from  there ;  and  Bob  was  quite  right, 
for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  young  scoundrel  had 
become  so  alarmed  over  the  prospect  that  he  felt 
very  uneasy  about  remaining  a  minute  longer 
than  was  absolutely  necessary.  When  he  had 
gone,  the  old  fence  closed  and  bolted  the  doors, 
and  then  passed  into  a  rear  room,  where  he 
retired  to  his  bed. 

When  all  had  been  quiet  for  perhaps  the  space 
of  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes,  the  young  detective 
crawled  out  of  his  box  and  straightened  himself 
out.  He  had,  however,  been  cramped  up  so 
long  that  this  was  not  so  easily  done.  But  mat- 
ters of  so  great  moment  were  before  him  now 
that  he  could  not  think  of  aches  and  pains.  He 
had  learned  about  the  location  of  the  trap  door 
when  the  old  fence  and  young  Mortimer  went 
into  the  cellar  to  look  for  him. 

On  his  hands  and  knees  Bob  cautiously  pro- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  HQ 

ceeded,  searching  on  either  side  of  him  for  the 
door.  It  was  so  dark  that  he  could  see  nothing, 
and  as  the  room  was  filled  with  chairs,  old  boxes, 
and  so  on,  he  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  navigate 
under  such  circumstances,  especially  as  he  knew 
that  the  slightest  noise  would  prove  fatal  to  his 
scheme. 

At  length  his  hand  rested  upon  the  fastening 
of  the  trap  door,  and  to  his  horror  he  found  it 
locked.  If  the  room  had  seemed  dark  before  to 
the  young  detective,  it  was  now  most  oppressively 
black.  What  to  do,  which  way  to  turn,  he  did 
not  know.  The  doors  leading  to  the  street  were 
locked,  he  had  no  keys  about  him,  and  no  means 
of  producing  a  light. 

"This  is  the  worst  go  I've  struck  yet,"  said 
Bob  to  himself,  as  he  meditated  over  his  situa- 
tion. ' '  Jest  as  I  thought  everything  was  all  fixed, 
this  blamed  old  lock  knocks  me  out.  Well,  I've 
pulled  through  pretty  good  so  far,  and  I  won't 
give  it  up  yet.  I  may  strike  an  idea,"  he  con- 
tinued undismayed,  and  then  commenced  prowl- 
ing stealthily  about  the  room,  in  search  of  some- 
thing— anything  that  would  serve  his  purpose. 

He  thought  if  he  could  find  the  key  to  the  hall 
door  he  would  try  to  make  his  escape  from  the 
building ;  and,  once  out,  he  could  get  matches, 
and  whatever  else  he  needed  to  aid  him  in  carry- 
ing out  his  scheme  to  a  grand  success.  But  he 


120  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

was  no  more  fortunate  in  this  effort  than  he  had 
been  in  hunting  for  the  key  to  the  trap  door. 

He  searched,  too,  every  nook  and  corner  for  a 
match,  but  failed  utterly  to  find  one,  or  anything 
to  keep  his  courage  good.  The  situation  began 
to  look  alarming  to  him.  He  was  now  as  much 
a  prisoner  as  Herbert  Randolph. 

' '  I  wonder  what  Tom  Flannery  would  do  if  he 
were  in  my  place  ? ' '  mused  the  young  detective 
as  he  sat  upon  the  floor,  somewhat  depressed  in 
spirits.  "  I  think  he'd  just  lay  down  and  bawl 
and  throw  up  the  whole  game  ;  that's  what  Tom 
Flannery  would  do.  But  I  ain't  goin'  to  throw 
up  no  game  till  it's  lost,  not  ef  Bob  Hunter  knows 
himself.  There  ain't  but  one  thing  to  do  now, 
and  that's  to  go  into  old  Gunwagner's  bedroom 
and  take  them  keys  outer  his  pocket  ;  that's  what 
I  think.  Ef  he  was  to  wake  up,  tho' ,  and  catch 
me  at  it — well,  I  guess  I  wouldn't  be  in  the  detec- 
tive business  no  more.  But — what's  that  noise  ?  " 
said  he  to  himself,  suddenly  becoming  aware  of  a 
strange  sound. 

Our  young  detective  felt  a  cold  chill  creep  over 
him.  His  first  thought  was  that  the  old  fence 
was  coming  into  his  presence,  and  would  of  course 
capture  him  and  punish  him  most  inhumanly. 
But  as  the  slight  noise  continued,  and  Gunwagner 
did  not  appear,  Bob  took  courage  and  listened 
keenly  for  developments.  Presently  the  sound 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  121 

came  nearer,  and  now  a  gleam  of  light  shone  up 
through  a  crack  in  the  floor. 

"Can  it  be  Vermont?"  said  Bob  to  himself, 
hardly  believing  his  own  eyes. 

Still  nearer  came  the  light. 

"  He  is  climbing  the  stairs,  as  sure  as  I'm 
alive,"  said  Bob,  almost  overcome  with  joy. 

In  the  trap  door  was  a  small  knot  hole,  about 
an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter.  Through  this 
opening  the  light  now  shone  distinctly,  and  it 
was  most  welcome  to  the  eyes  of  our  young  detec- 
tive. A  pressure  was  now  brought  to  bear  upon 
the  door  from  the  under  side,  but  it  only  yielded 
so  far  as  the  fastening  would  allow. 

"Is  that  you,  Vermont?"  whispered  Bob 
through  the  knot  hole. 

No  answer  was  given. 

Herbert  Randolph  had  never  considered  him- 
self in  any  degree  superstitious.  But  what  could 
this  be  but  Bob  Hunter's  spirit  ? 

"  Don't  be  afraid,"  said  the  young  detective, 
who  imagined  Herbert  would  find  it  difficult  to 
realize  that  he  was  there.  "It's  Bob  Hunter. 
I  ain't  got  no  card  with  me,  or  I'd  send  it  down 
to  you. ' ' 

This  remark  sounded  so  much  like  Bob  that 
young  Randolph  no  longer  doubted  his  own 
senses. 

"Bob    Hunter!"    exclaimed   he,    under  .his 


122  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

breath.  "  How  in  the  world  came  you  here,  and 
what  are  you  doing?  " 

"Yes,  it's  me,  Vermont.  But  don't  stop  to 
ask  no  questions  now.  I'm  here  to  help  you  get 
out,  but  this  blamed  old  door  is  locked,  and  I 
hain't  got  no  ke}-,  nor  no  light,  nor  nothin'." 

After  exchanging  a  few  words,  Herbert  took 
from  his  pocket  a  piece  of  paper.  This  he  made 
into  a  taper,  which  he  lighted  and  passed  up 
through  the  knot  hole  to  Bob.  With  this  the 
latter  lighted  the  gas ;  and  now  he  felt  that  he 
was  in  a  position  to  be  of  some  service  to  his 
friend. 

A  careful  search  failed  to  reveal  any  keys. 
Then  the  two  boys  discussed  the  situation,  and 
presently  Herbert  passed  a  bent  nail  to  the  young 
detective,  and  instructed  him  how  to  operate  on 
the  lock,  which  speedily  yielded  to  the  boy's 
efforts.  In  another  instant  the  trap  door  was 
thrown  up,  and  by  a  most  unfortunate  blunder 
it  fell  back  with  a  tremendous  crash. 

Herbert,  however,  emerged  quickly  from  his 
cold,  damp  prison  with  a  look  of  consternation 
pictured  upon  his  face.  Both  he  and  Bob  knew 
that  old  Gunwagner  would  be  upon  them  in  less 
than  a  minute,  and  they  hastily  prepared  to 
defend  themselves. 


XVI. 

HAT  shall  we  do?"  said  Bob,  with  no 
little    alarm,     as     Herbert     Randolph 
climbed  up  through  the  old  trap  door. 

"We  must  defend  ourselves,"  replied  the 
young  Vermonter,  with  characteristic  firmness. 

"  There  ain't  no  way  to  escape,  is  there  ?  " 

"  No,  I  suppose  not,  if  the  hall  door  is  locked." 

"  It  is,  and  I  can't  find  no  key." 

"  Have  you  looked  since  the  gas  was  lighted  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  'tain't  there  nowhere." 

' '  Where  do  }7ou  imagine  it  is  ?  " 

"  I  guess  the  old  duffer  has  it  in  his  pocket, 
the  same  as  he  has  the  key  to  the  trap  door. ' ' 

"  Well,  there  is  no  time  to  lose.  Old  Gun- 
wagner  will  be  down  upon  us  in  an  instant." 

' '  Do  you  think  he  will  bring  a  revolver  with 
him  ?  ' '  asked  Bob,  somewhat  nervously. 

"Very  likely  he  will." 

"  I  guess  we'd  better  climb  down  cellar,  then, 
and  pretty  lively,  too." 

"  No,  we  won't,"  replied  Herbert  decidedly. 
' '  I  have  had  all  of  that  prison  I  want.  We 
will  fight  it  out  here." 

123 


124  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  All  right,  then,  I'll  shut  this  door  down,  or 
we  might  get  thrown  down  cellar  in  the  fight." 

"So  we  might,  and Ah,  here  he  comes  !  " 

said  young  Randolph,  detecting  the  sound  of  foot- 
steps, as  old  Gunwaguer  approached. 

' '  Stand  in  front  of  the  counter,  so  that  he  will 
see  you  when  he  opens  the  door,  and ' ' 

'•  But  the  revolver  !  "  interrupted  Bob. 

He  had  now  entirely  relinquished  the  leadership, 
for  in  Herbert  Randolph  he  recognized  his  superior. 

"  I  was  going  to  tell  you  about  that,"  replied 
our  hero.  "If  you  see  a  revolver  in  his  hand, 
you  must  drop  behind  the  counter  as  quickly  as 
possible. ' ' 

"Yes,  and  I  won't  waste  no  time  about  it, 
either. ' ' 

"  No,  you'd  better  not,"  said  the  young  Ver- 
monter  ;  and  he  had  barely  time  to  dart  behind 
the  door,  when  old  Guuwagner  placed  his  hand 
upon  the  latch  and  burst  into  the  room.  His  eye 
fell  upon  Bob  Hunter,  who  stood  directly  in  front 
of  him,  but  about  two  thirds  of  the  way  across 
the  room. 

The  old  fence  recognized  him  instantly,  and 
with  a  fiendish  shout  made  for  the  lad,  as  if  he 
meant  annihilation.  He  had  not  proceeded  far, 
however,  when  young  Randolph  bounded  from 
behind  the  door  and  fell  upon  his  shoulders, 
bearing  him  to  the  floor. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  125 

A  yell  of  terror  escaped  from  the  old  villain 
that  told  clearly  of  his  alarm.  He  had  not 
thought  of  Herbert  until  now.  He  was  at  a  loss 
to  know  what  caused  the  noise  when  the  trap> 
door  slipped  back  with  such  a  resounding  crash. 

But  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  Bob  Hunter  he 
readily  jumped  at  the  conclusion  that  he  alone 
had  caused  the  rumpus.  Now,  however,  he  was 
stunned  at  this  unexpected  assault  from  the  rear. 
When  Herbert  and  the  old  man  fell  to  the  floor, 
Bob  Hunter  was  quickly  at  his  friend's  side, 
ready  to  take  a  hand  in  the  struggle  if  needed. 

While  old  Gunwagner  was  a  cruel,  heartless 
man,  he  nevertheless  lacked  genuine  courage. 
L,ike  the  majority  of  men  of  his  class,  he  was  a 
coward  at  heart.  He  therefore  readily  gave  up 
the  struggle  when  surprised  by  Herbert  Ran- 
dolph. 

"  It's  your  turn  now,  old  man, ' '  said  our  young 
hero  triumphantly.  ' '  Last  night  you  pounced 
upon  me,  and  seemed  to  like  it.  Now  perhaps 
you  will  enjoy  this  !  " 

A  coarse  oath,  characteristic  of  the  old  villain, 
was  the  reply. 

' '  You  may  as  well  submit  decently.  You  are 
in  our  power  now,  and  if  you  behave  yourself 
you  will  save  us  the  necessity  of  compelling  you 
to  obey. ' ' 

The  old  fence  grated  his  teeth,  and  looked  the 


126  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

very  incarnation  of  all  that  was  evil.  The  wicked 
spirit  that  shone  in  his  face  would  have  afforded 
a  rare  study  for  a  painter.  He  made  a  movement 
of  his  right  hand,  as  if  to  reach  back  to  his  hip 
pocket.  A  movement  of  this  sort,  under  such 
circumstances,  is  considered  suggestive  of  firearms. 

Bob  did  not  wait  to  see  whether  he  was  reach- 
ing for  a  revolver  or  some  other  ugly  weapon, 
but  instantly  fell  upon  this  hand  and  secured  it. 
The  other  hand  was  in  Herbert's  firm  grasp,  so 
it  was  useless  for  the  old  fence  to  struggle  further. 

' '  My  turn  has  come  now  to  get  square  with 
you,  you  cruel  old  sinner, ' '  said  Herbert.  ' '  I 
begged  of  you  to  take  me  out  of  that  foul  cellar 
and  away  from  those  dreadful  rats,  but  you 
showed  no  mercy. ' ' 

Gunwagner  made  no  reply. 

"Yes,  and  he  was  goin'  to  send  you  off  on 
some  kind  of  a  ship  tomorrow,  so  you  would 
never  get  back  to  New  York  no  more,"  said  Bob. 

"  Send  me  off  on  a  ship  !  "  exclaimed  our  hero, 
with  a  shudder.  He  had  not  until  now  even 
imagined  the  full  purpose  of  his  enemies. 

:<  Yes,  that's  what  they  said  tonight,  him  and 
that  Mortimer  feller." 

' '  And  you  heard  this  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  when  I  was  in  that  box  under  the 
counter  there,"  replied  Bob,  with  enthusiasm  ; 
"  and  they  talked  about  bank  robbin',  too." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  127 

At  this  revelation  old  Gunwagner  seemed  to 
give  up  all  hope.  The  hardness  of  his  face  melted 
into  an  expression  of  pain,  and  he  trembled  with 
fear,  like  the  frightened  thing  that  he  was.  He 
had  been  outwitted  by  the  young  detective. 

"  Richard  Goldwin's  bank,  I  suppose,"  replied 
young  Randolph,  almost  dazed  at  the  audacity  of 
the  villains. 

"  Yes,  that  was  their  game  in  getting  you  out 
of  the  way." 

"I  didn't  think  of  that  before." 

"Well,  you  hain't  been  in  New  York  very 
long,  and  so  you  don't  know  the  way  they  do 
things  here — them  that  is  bad,  like  this  gang." 

' '  How  did  you  find  out  where  I  was,  and  how 
in  the  world  did  you  manage  to  get  in  here  with- 
out being  seen?  " 

"  Well,  you  see,  I  was  a  detective,"  said  Bob, 
with  a  show  of  pride. 

' '  A  detective  ! ' '  exclaimed  the  young  Ver- 
nionter,  looking  at  his  friend  with  the  innocent 
wonder  of  a  country  boy. 

"Yes,  but  I  hain't  got  no  time  to  tell  you 
about  it  now.  We  must  be  movin',  you  see." 

"So  we  must,"  replied  Herbert. 

Doubtless  old  Gunwagner,  too,  would  have 
liked  much  to  hear  Bob  relate  how  he  discovered 
his  friend's  prison.  But  even  this  small  satisfac- 
tion was  denied  him. 


128  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  What's  the  first  move? "  said  Bob. 

' '  I  have  been  thinking  about  that, ' '  replied  our 
hero. 

"  Of  course  we  must  have  him  arrested." 

' '  Certainly  we  must. ' ' 

"  Oh,  no,  don't,  don't  !  "  pleaded  the  old  man, 
speaking  for  the  first  time. 

"  It  is  too  late  to  plead  now,"  said  young  Ran- 
dolph. ' '  You  should  have  thought  of  this  before 
committing  the  evil  that  you  have  done. ' ' 

"  But  I  am  an  old  man,  and  he  was  the  one  led 
me  into  it." 

"Who?" 

' '  Mortimer — Felix  Mortimer.  If  it  hadii'  t  been 
for  him,  I  wouldn't  er  done  it." 

"Oh,  that  don't  go  with  us,"  said  Bob.  "I 
heard  the  whole  story  tonight.  You  was  into 
the  game  with  him,  and  now  you're  trapped  you 
wanter  squeal ;  that's  what  you  do.  But  it  won't 
do  you  no  good.  You  are  a  bad  lot  from  way 
back — gettin'  boys  to  steal  things  for  you  !  " 

This  was  a  revelation  to  young  Randolph,  as 
he  did  not  know  until  now  that  old  Gunwagner 
kept  a  fence. 

"Don't  have  me  arrested,  boys,"  whined  the 
old  villain,  now  trying  to  work  on  their  sympathy. 
' '  It  would  kill  me.  I  am  so  old. ' ' 

"  Do  you  expect  sympathy  from  me  after  your 
heartless  treatment?  "  said  Herbert. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  129 

' '  He  made  me  do  it, ' '  was  the  reply,  referring 
to  Mortimer. 

' '  Nonsense.  You  could  have  taken  me  out  of 
that  old  cellar  if  you  had  wanted  to  do  so." 

' '  Yes,  and  do  you  think  you  would  er  showed 
me  any  sympathy  if  you'd  got  me  into  your 
clutches  alone  ?  "  put  in  Bob. 

"  I  wouldn't  have  been  hard  on  you." 

"  No,  you  wouldn't,"  said  the  young  detective 
sarcastically.  "  Your  talk  tonight,  when  I  was 
hid  away,  sounded  as  if  you  wouldn't  er  been 
hard  on  me — oh,  no,  you  wouldn't.  I  could  tell 
that  from  the  way  you  plunged  at  me  just  now, 
when  you  came  through  that  door  with  your  war 
paint  on. ' ' 


XVII. 

D  Gunwagner  saw  quite  clearly  that  any 
further  effort  to  play  upon  the  boys' 
sympathy  was  useless.  The  first  shock  of  his 
surprise  was  over,  and  now  the  subtle  cunning  of 
his  nature  began  to  reassert  itself. 

' '  Boys,  you  have  the  advantage  of  me  at 
present,"  said  he  softly.  "  But  I  can't  see  how 
it  will  pay  you  to  act  foolish." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  ?  ' '  asked  Herbert. 

' '  I  mean  that  it  will  pay  you  a  good  deal  better 
to  make  terms  with  me." 

"How  so?" 

"  Would  you  like  to  be  rich?  "  was  the  reply. 

"  I  suppose  every  American  wants  to  be  rich, 
and  I  guess  we  are  no  exception,  are  we,  Bob?  " 

"  I  should  think  we  ain't,"  replied  the  latter. 

"So  I  thought,"  said  the  old  fence,  "  and  it's 
in  my  power  to  make  you  rich. ' ' 

The  boys  were  listening  to  subtle,  dangerous 
words. 

' '  How  can  you  do  that  ? ' '  said  Bob,  growing 
interested. 

"There  are  many  ways  that  I  might  do  it.  In 
130 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  131 

the  first  place,  I  could  give  both  of  you  all  the 
money  you  will  ever  need,  and  still  be  rich  myself. ' ' 

"  But  a  man  isn't  likely  to  give  away  so 
much,"  said  Herbert. 

"  You  must  have  a  payin'  business,"  observed 
the  young  detective. 

"  Of  course  I  must,  and  that  is  the  point  I  am 
coming  at.  You  boys  have  shown  yourselves 
keen  lads,  and  I  always  like  to  help  such  boys 
along,  for  I  was  poor  once  myself.  Now  my 
proposition  is  this  :  I'll  give  you  both  a  show  in 
the  business  here  with  me." 

"  No  sir,  thank  you,  we  do  not  care  to  go  into 
a  dishonest  business  like  this,"  said  Herbert 
emphatically,  speaking  for  both  Bob  and  himself. 

' '  Not  if  you  could  each  make  ten  thousand  a 
year,  clean  money  ? ' ' 

"  No  ;  not  if  we  could  make  ten  times  that," 
replied  our  hero. 

' '  You  could  have  a  good  time  on  ten  thousand 
a  year — boys  of  your  age. ' ' 

' '  Not  on  stolen  money. ' ' 

"  It  wouldn't  be  on  stolen  money." 

"It  looks  very  much  like  it,  when  you  buy 
stolen  goods." 

"Yes,  and  fix  up  a  job  for  bank  robbin'," 
added  Bob. 

"  Well,  suppose  it  does  look  so,  why  couldn't 
you  enjoy  the  money  just  as  inuch  ?  " 


132  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Because  it  wouldn't  be  right  for  us  to  have 
it,"  returned  our  hero. 

"  Boys,  you  are  not  so  old  as  I  am.  I've  seen 
a  good  deal  of  life.  Money  is  money,  and  it 
don't  matter  where  it  comes  from  ;  it  will  buy 
just  as  much." 

"  It  will  not  always  buy  one  his  liberty," 
replied  young  Randolph  coolly. 

This  remark  came  close  home  to  the  old  fence, 
and  disconcerted  him  for  a  minute.  Presently, 
however,  he  rallied,  and  said  : 

"  Do  you  think  one  has  his  liberty,  as  you  call 
it,  when  he  is  poor — so  poor  that  he  can  have  no 
luxuries?  " 

' '  To  be  sure  he  does.     Why  not  ?  ' ' 

"  You  will  change  your  mind  some  day,  and 
perhaps  it  will  be  too  late." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  never  change  my  mind  in  favor 
of  dishonesty  and  crime." 

"  Do  you  know  that  a  boy's  chance  to  get  rich 
hardly  ever  comes  to  him  but  once  in  his  life  ? ' ' 
continued  old  Gunwagner,  undaunted. 

' '  No,  and  I  don' t  believe  it  is  so,  either. ' ' 

"Another  evidence  of  your  inexperience. 
When  you  get  older,  you  will  look  back  and  see 
what  I  tell  you  is  true  ;  and  if  you  miss  this 
chance  you  will  never  get  another  one  like  it." 

"  We  don't  want  another  one  like  it,  so  it's  no 
use  to  talk  about  it  any  more." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  133 

"That's  so,"  said  Bob;  "he  hain't  got  no 
interest  in  us  ;  I  can  see  through  his  trick." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  young  man.  If  you  don't 
want  to  go  into  the  business  here  yourselves,  I'll 
give  you  an  interest  in  it,  if  you  will  do 
nothing  to  injure  it.  You  see,  you  know  about 
the  business  here  now,  and  if  you  should  give  it 
away  to  the  police,  why  it  would  hurt  it,  don't 
you  understand  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  we  understand  it  too  well,  but  do  not 
want  an  interest  in  it,"  said  Herbert. 

"It  would  pay  you  well,"  persisted  the  old 
fence  ;  ' '  say  about  seven  to  ten  thousand  dollars 
each  every  year,  and  you  needn't  come  anear  it — 
just  take  your  dividends  every  week,  and  that's 
all." 

"  Well,  we  don't  want  no  such  dividends,''  said 
Bob  ;  "  nor  we  couldn't  get  'em  if  we  did  want 
'em;  that's  all." 

"  You  are  mistaken  again,  for  if  you  think  the 
business  don't  pay  as  well  as  I  say,  why  I  can 
show  you  the  money." 

' '  Got  it  with  you  ?  ' '  said  Bob. 

This  question  pleased  the  old  fence,  and  gave 
him  renewed  courage.  He  thought  now  that 
perhaps  there  was  yet  hope  for  him. 

' '  I  have  it  in  the  house, ' '  said  he. 

"In  cash?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  can  get  it  if  you  want  to  see  it." 


134  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Don't  see  how  you're  goin'  to  get  it,  the  way 
you  are  fixed  now,"  continued  Bob. 

' '  Well,  if  you  will  not  let  me  go  for  it,  I  can 
tell  you  where  to  find  it. ' ' 

' '  Can  you  ?    Well,  where  is  it  ?  " 

"  It  is  in  my  bedroom,  in  the  further  end  of  the 
house.  You  will  find  it  in  the  thick  wallet,  under 
my  pillow." 

"  Well,  we  will  take  your  word  for  it,  seein' 
we  don't  need  the  money  for  anything,  and 
wouldn't  take  it  nohow,"  said  the  young  detec- 
tive, who  divined  the  purpose  of  the  old  fence. 

"  But  if  you  don't  get  it,  how  can  I  make  you 
boys  a  present  ?  You  will  not  allow  me  to  go  for 
it, ' '  said  the  fence,  fearing  his  scheme  had  failed 
him. 

"We  don't  want  no  present,  so  don't  worry 
yourself  about  that." 

"•We  prefer  taking  you  with  us,  rather  than 
the  present,"  said  Herbert. 

' '  Old  man, ' '  continued  Bob,  ' '  your  game  didn't 
work.  All  you  wanted  was  to  get  me  out  of  the 
way  so  you  could  er  laid  Vermont  out.  But  it 
warn't  no  go.  You  was  too  anxious  to  give  away 
money.  I  could  see  all  the  time  what  you  was 
aimin'  at." 

The  old  fence  protested  against  this  interpreta- 
tion of  his  motives,  but  the  boys  were  too  keen 
for  him.  Young  Bob  Hunter  had  been  knocking 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  135 

about  the  streets  of  New  York  too  long  to  be  very 
easily  taken  in  by  this  old  Gunwagner.  His  wits 
had  been  sharpened  to  a  high  degree  in  his  long 
struggle  for  bread,  and  his  knowledge  of  human 
nature  was  as  superior  to  that  of  Herbert  Ran- 
dolph as  the  latter' s  general  education  was 
superior  to  Bob's. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  work  upon  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  boys,  that  buying  them  off  was  out 
of  the  question,  and  that  the  scheme  to  outwit 
them  had  proved  a  flat  failure,  Gunwagner  now 
turned  to  the  last  weapon  which  he  could  hope  to 
use  with  any  possible  effect. 

' '  So  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  take  me 
with  you?  "  said  he,  looking  hard  at  Herbert. 

' '  Yes, ' '  replied  the  latter  firmly. 

' '  You  will  make  the  biggest  mistake  of  your 
life,  if  you  attempt  such  an  outrage." 

' '  An  outrage  !  Is  that  what  you  call  it,  when 
a  detective  takes  a  bird  like  you  in  ?  "  said  Bob 
Hunter  in  his  characteristic  manner. 

The  old  fence  looked  fiercely  at  him. 

1 '  My  friends  are  all  around  here,  and  I  can 
raise  a  dozen  of  them  before  you  could  get  me 
half  a  block  away." 

' '  We  do  not  feel  uneasy  about  your  so  called 
friends,"  said  Randolph.  "But  if  you  prefer  it, 
we  will  send  for  an  officer,  and  let  him  take  you. ' ' 

' '  If  your  friends  go  back  on  you  the  way  Mor- 


136  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

timer  done  tonight,  why,  then  I  guess  me  and 
Vermont  needn't  bother  much  about  your  gang." 

Further  intimidation  was  tried  by  Gunwagner, 
but  all  to  no  purpose,  for  now  the  boys  were  in 
the  act  of  fastening  together  the  wrists  of  the  old 
fence,  and  binding  them  securely  to  a  chair. 
When  this  had  been  done,  so  that  they  no  longer 
felt  any  insecurity,  they  took  from  his  pocket  the 
keys  to  both  doors  leading  to  the  street,  and  Bob 
Hunter  started  for  an  officer.  Young  Randolph 
remained  with  the  prisoner,  because  he  was 
stronger  than  Bob,  and  therefore  would  be  the 
better  able  to  handle  him,  should  he  by  any  means 
get  his  hands  loose. 

Now  every  hope  had  failed  the  old  man.  He 
saw  nothing  but  Sing  Sing  before  him.  His  evil 
purpose  had  at  last  recoiled  upon  him,  and  he 
was  a  prisoner  in  the  hands  of  one  who  but  a 
few  hours  before  had  begged  of  him  for  mercy. 

While  waiting  for  the  return  of  Bob  with  the 
officer,  Herbert  asked  Gunwagner  if  the  money 
he  had  made  in  crooked  and  unlawful  ways  had 
brought  him  happiness.  He  made  no  audible 
reply,  but  sat  with  his  head  bent  low.  An 
answer,  however,  was  conveyed  to  our  }?oung 
hero  by  a  silent  tear  that  made  its  way  slowly 
down  the  wrinkled  and  aged  face  of  the  old  man, 
whose  life  had  been  worse  than  wasted,  for  it  had 
been  an  evil  one. 


XVIII. 

T  T  was  past  midnight  when  Herbert  Randolph 
and  Bob  Hunter  reached  their  room.  The 
old  fence  had  meanwhile  been  taken  to  the  station 
house  by  an  officer.  Both  boys  were  sleepy  and 
well  nigh  exhausted,  so  they  immediately  sought 
rest. 

Bob,  however,  was  up  at  his  usual  hour  in  the 
morning,  and  off  to  look  after  his  paper  trade. 
Business  proved  good  with  him  on  this  occasion 
— unusually  good — so  that  his  profits  amounted 
to  quite  a  nice  little  sum.     He  therefore  planned 
to   give   Herbert   a  good  warm  breakfast,  some- 
thing better  than  it  had  been  their  custom  to  eat. 
Presently  Tom  Flannery  appeared. 
' '  You  here,  Bob  ? ' '  said  the  latter,  with  sur- 
prise.    ' '  I  thought  you  was  done  for,  sure. ' ' 
"What  made  you  think  that,  Tom  ?  " 
"  Why,  because  you  didn't  show  up." 
"  You  didn't  wait  for  me,  did  you  ?  " 
"Didn't  I?     Well,  I  should  think  I  did,  till 
near  twelve  o'clock,  too,   when   I  was  so  near 
froze    I    couldn't   stay   no    longer ;    and   Bob,   I 
thought  it  was  all  up  with  }rou." 


138  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  Why,  Tom,  you  hadn't  oughter  staid.  I  told 
you  to  go  home  after  you  lit  the  fire. ' ' 

"  I  know  you  did,  Bob,  but  I  didn't  feel  like 
goin'  home  and  leavin'  you  alone  in  that  den. 
You  see,  I  thought  you  might  need  me. ' ' 

"Tom,  you've  got  more  sand  than  I  thought 
you  had.  I  wish  I  coulder  fixed  it  so  you  coulder 
been  on  the  inside  too. ' ' 

' '  I  wish  you  could,  Bob.    ' '  Was  it  excitin'  ?  ' ' 

"  Excitin'  !  Well,  wasn't  it,  though  !  I  never 
saw  anything  like  it.  But  I  say,  Tom,  that  was 
a  great  go.  You  done  it  splendid." 

"What's  that,  Bob?" 

"Why,  the  fire  act.  I  don't  believe  nobody 
could  beat  that. ' ' 

Tom  enjoyed  this  praise  hugely. 

"I  wouldn't  like  to  a'  been  in  your  place, 
Bob,"  said  he,  "when  you  was  in  that  dark 
room,  nor  when  old  Gunwagner  and  that  other 
feller  was  huntin'  for  jrou." 

"No,  I  thought  you  wouldn't,  Tom,  and  I 
didn't  want  to  be  there,  neither." 

"  'Twas  a  big  detective  job/wasn't  it,  Bob?" 

"Well,  'twas  a  pretty  fair  one,  I  guess." 

' '  And  you  got  it  all  up  yourself, ' '  continued 
Tom  admiringly.  ' '  I  wish  I  could  do  things  the 
way  you  do,  Bob. ' ' 

"Well,  you  see,  Tom,  you  hain't  had  so  much 
experience  as  what  I  have,  but  you'll  come  out 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  139 

all  right,  and  make  a  big  detective,  I  know  you 
will." 

Bob  stopped  talking  to  sell  a  paper,  and  after 
making  change  and  pocketing  his  profit,  he 
continued  : 

"  Now,  Tom,  I  tell  you  what  'tis  :  you  and  me 
and  Herbert  will  eat  breakfast  together  when  he 
comes  down. ' ' 

"When  will  he  be  down?"  asked  Tom,  his 
hand  dropping  instinctively  upon  his  empty 
stomach. 

Tom  Flannery  was  known  among  his  crowd  of 
street  lads  as  the  hungry  boy.  He  was  always 
ready  to  eat,  and  never  seemed  to  get  enough 
food  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  his  appetite.  This 
invitation,  therefore,  was  very  welcome  to  him. 

"It's  'bout  time  for  him  now,"  replied  Bob, 
in  answer  to  Tom's  question. 

"I  wish  he  would  come,"  said  Tom,  looking 
hungrier  than  usual. 

"He  is  probably  making  up  sleep,"  said  the 
young  detective. 

' '  How  much  sleep  has  he  got  to  make  up, 
Bob  ?  ' '  asked  Tom  seriously. 

"I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  guess  pretty 
near  a  whole  night. ' ' 

"  A  whole  night !  "  exclaimed  Tom  dubiously. 
"  He  ain't  goin'  to  make  it  all  up  this  morning, 
is  he,  Bob?" 


140  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Tom's  hand  rested  suggestively  upon  his 
stomach  again. 

"Shucks  !  Tom  Flannery,  if  you  ain't  a  idiot, 
I  never  saw  one  !  To  think  Herbert  Randolph 
would  sleep  all  day  !  Didn't  I  tell  you  he  would 
be  right  down  ? ' ' 

"So  you  did,  Bob.  I  forgot  that;  but  you 
see  I  wanted  to  be  sure,  'cause  I  haven't  had 
nothin'  to  eat  yet  today." 

Bob  looked  at  his  companion  with  an  air  of 
disdain,  and  made  no  reply. 

Tom,  however,  was  not  over  sensitive,  so  he 
kept  on  talking  about  Bob's  adventure  at  the 
fence.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour  he  got  the 
whole  story  from  the  young  detective.  Bob  not 
only  told  him  his  own  adventures,  but  gave  him 
all  of  Herbert's  experience,  which  he  had  him- 
self learned  from  our  hero. 

It  was  now  about  a  quarter  to  nine.  Tom 
looked  suggestively  at  the  big  hands  on  the  City 
Hall  clock,  but  said  nothing  about  young  Ran- 
dolph's non  appearance. 

"I  don't  see  what  keeps  him,"  said  Bob, 
knowing  full  well  what  Tom  was  thinking  about. 

"  Nor  I  don't  either,  Bob.  I  guess  he  won't 
be  down  very  early." 

"  Well,  there  wasn't  nothin'  to  bring  him  down 
early." 

"  But  you  expected  him,  didn't  you,  Bob?  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  141 

"Of  course  I  did,  Tom  Flannery.  Didn't  I 
ask  you  to  eat  breakfast  with  me  and  him  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  you  did,  Bob,  and  that  was  what  I  was 
thinking  about." 

"  Well,  what  did  you  think  about  it?  " 

' '  I  was  wonderin'  if  you  meant  this  mornin' , 
or  some  other  mornin' . ' ' 

Tom  had  hardly  finished  this  remark  when 
Herbert  Randolph  approached  from  the  Broad- 
way entrance  and  spoke  to  Bob. 

"This  is  Tom  Flannery,  what  helped  me  do 
the  detective  act,"  said  the  latter,  by  way  of  in- 
troduction. "  You  know  I  told  you  about  him." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,  and  I  am  glad  to  meet 
you,  Tom  Flannery,"  replied  young  Randolph, 
extending  his  hand  to  Tom. 

"  So  am  I  glad  to  see  you,"  said  young  Flan- 
nery ;  "me  and  Bob  here  have  been  waitin'  for 
you  more'n  two  hours." 

"Oh,  Tom  Flannery!"  exclaimed  Bob. 
"  What  are  you  talkin'  that  way  for?  'Tain't  a 
quarter  so  much  that  we've  been  waitin',  and  you 
know  it." 

"Seems  like  'twas  a  half  a  day  to  me,  any 
way,"  protested  Tom,  with  his  hand  again  mov- 
ing towards  the  seat  of  his  digestion. 

' '  The  trouble  is  with  Tom  Flannery  that  he  is 
always  starvin'.  I  never  see  such  a  hungry  boy," 
explained  the  young  detective. 


142  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  answered  Tom  ;  "  I  like  to 
eat." 

Bob  explained  to  Herbert  that  they  had  been 
waiting  for  him  to  join  them  for  breakfast. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  young  Randolph,  "  but  I 
ate  my  breakfast  on  the  way  down." 

Tom  Flannery  was  disheartened. 

"Never  mind,  Tom,"  said  Bob;  "we  will 
have  the  breakfast  some  other  mornin' — you  and 
me  and  Vermont. ' ' 

When  it  was  time  for  Mr.  Goldwin  to  get 
down  to  business,  our  hero  and  the  young  detec- 
tive started  for  the  banking  house. 

A  surprise  awaited  Felix  Mortimer. 


XIX. 

you  s'pose  we  will  find  that  Mortimer 
feller  at  the  bank  ?  ' '  asked  Bob,  as  he  and 
young  Randolph  passed  down  Broadway  towards 
Wall  Street. 

"Very  likely  we  shall,"  responded  our  hero 
absent  mindedly. 

"If  he  has  heard  of  old  Gunwagner's  arrest, 
you  bet  he  won't  be  there." 

' '  The  papers  contained  nothing  about  the 
arrest,  did  they  ?  " 

"  No,  not  as  I  seen." 

"  Then  the  chances  are  that  he  is  there." 

"  So  I  think.     What  will  you  do,  if  he  is  ?" 

"I  don't  know  yet." 

"  You  won't  lick  him,  will  you  ?  " 

"Oh,  no;  that  wouldn't  be  a  wise  policy  to 
pursue." 

' '  But  he  deserves  it. ' ' 

"  So  he  does,  but  I  can't  afford  to  lower  myself 
by  fighting." 

"That's  so,  Vermont;  but,  all  the  same,  I'd 
like  to  see  you  lay  him  out  once — the  way  you 
did  at  Gunwagner's  ;  he  deserves  it." 


144  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  He  deserves  to  be  punished,  but  I  think  the 
law  will  do  that." 

"  'Tain't  quick  enough,"  said  Bob  petulantly. 
' '  A  feller  gets  all  over  his  mad  before  he  gets 
any  satisfaction  out  of  law. ' ' 

"  You  are  a  comical  chap,  Bob,"  said  Herbert ; 
"but  you  have  been  one  of  the  best  friends  I 
ever  knew.  If  you  had  not  come  to  my  rescue, 
I  should  probably  never  have  walked  down  this 
street  again." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  replied  the  young 
detective.  "  Don't  say  nothing  about  it." 

The  two  boys  had  now  reached  the  banking 
house  of  Richard  Goldwin.  Their  conversation, 
therefore,  terminated  as  they  entered  the  bank. 

Just  as  the  door  was  opened  to  them,  Mr.  Gold- 
win  came  out  of  his  private  office,  and  his  eyes 
fell  upon  Herbert  and  Bob. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  appearing  in  this 
bank  again  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  stern  glance  at 
young  Randolph.  * 

It  must  be  remembered  that  he  believed  the 
story  told  to  him  by  Felix  Mortimer,  and  there- 
fore looked  upon  Herbert  with  grave  suspicions, 
or  even  contempt. 

The  banker's  manner  and  implied  insinuation 
wounded  young  Randolph's  pride,  and  his  cheeks 
became  crimson. 

"If  you  are  not  already  prejudiced,  I  think, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  145 

sir,  I  can  explain  to  your  entire  satisfaction," 
said  our  young  hero,  with  a  native  dignity  well 
becoming  his  manliness. 

"  It's  jest  what  I  told  you  yesterday  mornin'," 
put  in  Bob.  "  Foul  play — that's  what  it  was." 

' '  I  think  I  am  not  prej  udiced  to  such  an  extent 
that  I  am  incapable  of  dealing  justly  with  5rou," 
replied  Mr.  Goldwin,  giving  no  heed  to  Bob's 
remark. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Herbert.  "  I  am  sure  you 
are  not,  and  if  you  will  listen  to  me,  I  will  ex- 
plain everything." 

"  A  mere  explanation  from  you,  however,  will 
not  convince  me." 

"It  should  do  so,"  replied  Herbert,  still  fur- 
ther wounded  by  this  cold  remark. 

"  Not  at  all,  since  you  have  deceived  me  once." 

"I  have  never  deceived  you,  sir,"  answered 
young  Randolph,  with  spirit. 

"Of  course  you  would  say  so,"  returned  the 
banker  coolly. 

"  Most  certainly  I  would,  sir,  when  I  am  tell- 
ing you  the  truth." 

' '  Have  you  any  evidence  to  sustain  your  posi- 
tion ?  ' '  asked  Mr.  Goldwiu. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Herbert ;  "  my  friend  here 
can  testify  that  I  have  not  deceived  you.  He 
knows  the  whole  story — the  plot  from  first  to 
last." 


146  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Herbert  Randolph's  bold,  straightforward  man- 
ner impressed  the  banker  favorably,  and  he  now 
became  less  frigid  towards  him. 

' '  There  has  evidently  been  deception  some- 
where," said  Mr.  Goldwin.  "Why  any  one 
should  plot  against  you,  with  a  view  to  getting 
you  out  of  this  bank,  I  cannot  understand." 

"  I  think  Bob  Hunter  here  can  make  it  plain 
to  you.  He  knows  the  whole  scheme." 

"And  it  warn't  no  small  scheme,  neither," 
responded  Bob.  "It's  lucky  for  you  that  we 
got  on  to  it  before  it  was  too  late. ' ' 

' '  What  do  you  mean  by  this  insinuation,  young 
man?" 

"Well,  if  you  want  to  know,  I'll  tell  you. 
Perhaps  you  remember  I  was  down  here  yester- 
day to  see  you,  and  I  told  you  somethin*  was 
wrong  then — didn't  I  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"And  you  didn't  believe  it,  but  just  talked 
against  Herbert  Randolph  here." 

' '  But  I  had  good  cause  for  doing  so. ' ' 

"  Yes,  if  you  think  that  stuff  that  Felix  Mor- 
timer give  you  was  any  cause,  then  you  did  have 
some  ;  but  he  was  jest  lyiii'  to  you,  that's  what 
he  was  doiu',  and  I  know  it ;  and  what's  more, 
I  can  prove  it,"  said  Bob  boldly  and  bluntly. 

"  You  are  making  a  strong  statement,"  replied 
the  banker,  somewhat  bewildered. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  147 

"  I  know  I  am,  but  I  couldn't  say  nothin'  too 
strong  about  that  Mortimer  feller. ' ' 

' '  Felix  Mortimer  is  in  my  private  office.  Dare 
you  come  in  and  face  him  with  these  remarks  ? ' ' 

"You  bet  I  dare — that's  jest  what  I  want 
to  do." 

"  You  shall  do  so,  then,"  said  the  banker.' 

Herbert  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  followed 
him,  at  his  invitation,  into  his  private  room. 


XX. 

T7ELIX  MORTIMER  sat  at  a  desk  facing  the 
door,  and  was  writing  when  the  banker 
and  the  two  boys  entered  the  room.  He  did  not 
look  up  till  Herbert  and  Bob  had  advanced 
several  steps  toward  him,  and  stopped.  But  his 
eyes  now  met  theirs,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
like  one  suddenly  surprised  by  a  lurking  enemy. 
Herbert  and  Bob  stood  there  for  a  moment,  boldly 
facing  him.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  either 
side. 

The  banker  took  a  position  where  he  could 
watch  the  effect  of  this  strange  meeting  upon 
both  parties.  He  saw  the  color  fade  from  young 
Mortimer's  face,  and  a  look  of  unmistakable  fear 
spread  over  it.  In  fact,  his  whole  manner  be- 
trayed the  alarm  that  now  possessed  him. 

In  strong  contrast  to  the  appearance  of  this 
young  villain  was  Herbert  Randolph's  frank, 
truthful  look.  He  had  no  cause  for  fear.  The 
peculiar  fire  that  shone  in  his  eyes  revealed  a 
meaning  that  was  at  once  impressive  and  deter- 
mined. Before  him  stood  one  who  had  wronged 
him  outrageously,  stolen  his  position  away  from 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  149 

him,  and  blackened  his  character  with  ingenious 
falsehood. 

Our  hero  thought  of  all  this,  and  his  blood 
boiled  with  manly  indignation.  Had  he  been 
alone  with  Mortimer,  I  fear  the  latter  would 
have  suffered  the  penalty  for  his  villainy.  But 
discretion  was  now  the  sensible  course  for  Her- 
bert, and  he  wisely  restrained  himself  from  an 
unbecoming  demonstration  of  hostility. 

' '  Do  you  know  these  young  men  ?  ' '  asked  the 
banker  sharply,  addressing  young  Mortimer. 

"  I  know  one  of  them,  sir — that  is,  I  saw  him 
here  the  morning  you  advertised  for  a  boy," 
replied  Felix,  commencing  to  rally. 

' '  I  recollect  the  fact.  You  refer  to  Herbert 
Randolph,  I  presume  ? ' ' 

"Yes,  sir." 

' '  I  think  you  told  me  something  about  his 
getting  another  position,  and  this,  you  said,  was 
probably  the  reason  why  he  failed  to  continue 
working  at  this  bank. ' ' 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Mortimer,  with  bold 
effronter}'. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  this  young  man's 
statement,  Mr.  Randolph?  "  said  the  banker. 

Felix  Mortimer's  manner  had  already  raised 
Mr.  Goldwin's  suspicions,  but  he  wished  to  be 
doubly  sure,  and  thus  he  proceeded  carefully 
with  the  investigation. 


150  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"His  statement  is  wholly  false,"  was  our 
hero's  reply.  "It  was  his  miserable  villainy 
that  deprived  me  of  my  liberty,  and  kept  me 
away  from  my  work. ' ' 

Mr.  Goldwin  looked  puzzled. 

"The  plot  thickens,"  said  he.  "Give  me 
your  story. ' ' 

Herbert  related  how  he  had  been  victimized, 
telling  the  facts  much  as  I  have  given  them  in 
the  preceding  chapters  of  this  narrative. 

"  Tell  him  about  the  knock  out,"  put  in  Bob, 
who  evidently  thought  this  one  of  the  bests  parts 
of  the  story. 

' '  What  was  that  ?  ' '  asked  the  banker. 

Herbert  explained. 

"So  that  was  what  gave  you  the  swollen  jaw, 
was  it?"  said  Mr.  Goldwin,  addressing  Felix 
Mortimer  in  a  severe  tone. 

"  No,  it  was  not,"  said  he.  "I  told  you  what 
did  it,  and  I  don't  propose  to  hear  any  more  lies 
from  street  fellows  like  these,"  added  Mortimer 
contemptuously,  and  at  the  same  time  moving 
towards  the  door. 

"Stop  !  "  said  the  banker  firmly.  "  You  will 
not  leave  this  room  till  this  matter  is  cleared  up. ' ' 

Young  Mortimer  winced,  and  Bob  Hunter 
looked  up  at  Herbert  and  smiled  suggestively. 

"Mr.  Randolph,  this  fellow  stated  to  me  yes- 
terday that  you  were  not  from  Vermont ;  that 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  151 

you  are  an  impostor.     What  have   you   to  say 
to  this?" 

"  I  can  only  say  that  I  told  you  the  truth." 

' '  Have  you  any  way  of  proving  your  state- 
ment?" 

' '  Here  is  a  letter  that  I  received  this  morning 
from  my  mother,"  said  Herbert,  handing  it  to 
the  banker.  "This,  I  think,  will  sustain  my 
word." 

"  The  envelope  is  postmarked  '  Fairbury,  Ver- 
mont,' "  replied  Mr.  Goldwin,  scrutinizing  it 
closely. 

"You  may  read  the  letter,"  said  our  hero. 
"  It  will  doubtless  convince  you  of  my  truthful- 
ness. ' ' 

It  ran  as  follows  : 

FAIRBURY,  VT.,  Thursday,  November  i2th. 
MY  DEAR  SON  : 

Your  letter  reached  us  this  evening,  and  it  lifted  a  great 
load  of  anxiety  from  our  hearts,  for  we  could  not  help  fearing 
some  ill  luck  might  have  overtaken  you— a  stranger  and  an 
inexperienced  boy  in  so  great  a  city  as  New  York. 

Your  father  and  I  rejoice  at  your  good  fortune,  and  feel 
proud  that  our  boy  should  be  chosen  by  the  banker  from 
among  so  large  a  number  of  applicants  for  the  same  position. 
Your  excellent  start  gives  us  fresh  courage  to  fight  the  battle 
of  life  over  again,  and  to  try  and  regain  our  property,  or  so 
much  of  it  as  will  be  necessary  to  support  us  comfortably  in 
our  old  age. 

Your  father's  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy  when  I  read  your 
letter  to  him,  and  he  said  I  might  tell  you  that  he  feels  rich 
in  the  possession  of  a  son  who  has  health,  energy,  and  good 
principles,  and  who  has  shown  himself  able  to  make  his  way 


152  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

in  the  world  unaided.  He  thinks  you  now  have  an  excellent 
opportunity  for  commencing  a  prosperous  career.  From 
what  you  wrote  of  Mr.  Goldwiu,  the  banker,  we  think  he 
must  be  a  very  nice  man,  and  we  are  heartily  glad  that  you 
can  have  his  influence  thrown  about  you  to  strengthen  you 
against  the  evils  you  should  shun. 

We  were  greatly  amused  at  the  picture  j-ou  gave  of  Bob 
Hunter,  the  newsboy.  You  must  find  him  very  entertaining. 
Write  us  some  more  about  him.  His  droll  talk  reads  like  a 
novel.  Your  father  laughed  heartily  at  it. 

Be  sure  and  write  us  two  or  three  times  a  week,  for  you 
know  we  are  entirely  alone  now  you  are  away.  With  love 
from  your  father  and  myself,  I  will  say  good  by  for  today. 

YOUR  MOTHER. 

Mr.  Goldwin  commenced  to  read  this  letter 
aloud,  but  before  he  had  finished  it  his  voice 
choked,  and  he  reached  for  his  handkerchief  with 
which  to  dry  his  moist  eyes. 

The  picture  it  presented  of  the  Vermont  father 
and  mother,  so  deeply  interested  in  their  only 
boy,  brought  fresh  to  the  banker's  mind  his  own 
parental  home,  and  he  saw  himself  once  more 
bidding  good  by  to  his  father  and  mother,  as  he 
left  them  and  the  old  farm,  a  mere  boy,  to  seek 
a  livelihood  in  the  great  metropolis. 

Presently  he  overcame  this  emotion,  and  turn- 
ing to  young  Mortimer,  said  sternly  : 

"This  letter  not  only  proves  Mr.  Randolph's 
truthfulness,  but  it  convicts  you  of  a  base  false- 
hood. You  deceived  me  by  artful  lying,  and 
now  you  have  the  effrontery  to  stand  before  me 
and  this  young  man,  whom  you  have  so  cruelly 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  153 

wronged,  and  boldly  deny  everything.  You  are 
the  most  polished  young  villain  I  ever  knew. 

"  Young  man,"  continued  the  banker,  address- 
ing Bob,  and  without  waiting  for  Mortimer  to 
reply,  "  what  do  you  know  about  this  matter?  " 

"I  guess  I  know  'bout  everything,"  said  the 
young  detective,  glad  of  a  chance  to  have  his  say. 

' '  You  remarked  that  it  was  lucky  that  you 
found  out  something  before  it  was  too  late  for  us 
here  at  the  bank,  I  believe  ?  ' ' 

' '  Yes,  sir,  you  are  right. ' ' 

"Will  you  please  tell  us  the  facts  ? " 

Bob  related  the  conversation  he  had  heard  be- 
tween old  Gunwaguer  and  Felix  Mortimer  rela- 
tive to  bank  robbing. 

"  So  that  was  your  scheme  in  getting  in  here, 
was  it,  you  young  villain?"  said  Mr.  Goldwin, 
angrily  addressing  Felix  Mortimer. 

"  I  refuse  to  answer  the  charges  made  by  these 
confederates.  They  are  telling  what  has  no 
truth  in  it,  and  are  deceiving  you,  as  you  will 
learn  to  your  sorrow,"  replied  Felix,  still  main- 
taining a  good  degree  of  boldness. 

Richard  Goldwin,  however,  was  too  good  a 
judge  of  human  nature  to  be  further  imposed 
upon  by  the  tricks  of  young  Mortimer. 

' '  But  you  will  be  forced  to  answer  to  the 
charges  sooner  or  later,  sir,"  said  the  banker. 
' '  The  court  will  compel  you  to  do  so. ' ' 


154  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

The  court  ! 

These  words  made  young  Mortimer  wince,  and 
his  nerve  palpably  weakened.  He  muttered 
some  unintelligible  reply — whether  a  threat  or 
not  none  present  knew. 

' '  How  came  you  to  overhear  this  conversation 
between  the  old  fence  and  this  fellow?"  asked 
Mr.  Goldwiu  of  Bob  Hunter. 

The  young  detective  here  related  why  he  sus- 
pected Mortimer,  how  he  saw  him  at  the  bank  in 
Herbert's  place,  how  he  shadowed  him  up  Broad- 
way— told  of  the  bootblacking  scene,  in  which  he 
got  the  essential  facts  from  Peter  Smartweed  and 
Mortimer  ;  related  his  manner  of  gaining  admit- 
tance to  the  fence,  and  told  of  the  trick  he  played 
upon  the  old  man  and  Felix — the  trick  that 
enabled  him  to  carr)T  out  to  success  his  scheme 
for  liberating  Herbert  Randolph. 

' '  And  you  did  all  of  this  alone  ?  ' '  asked  the 
banker,  with  genuine  astonishment. 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Bob  carelessly,  as  if  it 
didn't  amount  to  much. 

"I  cannot  realize  it,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin 
admiringly.  ' '  A  professional  detective  could 
not  have  done  better,  and  probably  would  have 
fallen  far  short  of  doing  as  well." 

"I  didn't  think  nothin'  of  it,"  returned  Bob. 

'  Twas  easy  enough,  and  'twas  kind  of  excitin,' 
too." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  155 

' '  And  you  liked  the  excitement  ?  ' ' 

Bob  admitted  that  he  did,  but  was  very  modest 
about  his  triumph,  and  was  not  disposed  to  look 
upon  it  as  any  great  feat  now  it  was  all  over. 
But  Mr.  Goldwiu  assured  him,  in  most  compli- 
mentary terms,  that  great  credit  was  due  to  him 
for  the  skill  and  bravery  he  had  displayed. 

Meanwhile  Felix  Mortimer  had  been  slyly 
inching  towards  a  door  that  was  a  little  to  his 
left,  and  now  that  Mr.  Goldwin's  attention  was 
centered  upon  young  Bob  Hunter,  he  seized  the 
opportunity  and  made  a  mad  plunge  for  liberty. 
His  movements,  however,  had  been  detected  by 
Herbert  Randolph,  and  he  no  sooner  reached  the 
door  than  the  young  Vermonter  grasped  him 
firmly  by  the  collar  and  jerked  him  back. 

Mortimer's  effort  to  escape  prompted  Mr. 
Goldwin  to  sound  the  alarm  for  a  policeman. 
An  officer  responded  promptly,  immediately 
arrested  the  young  criminal  and  took  him  to  the 
station  house,  where  he  was  locked  into  a  cell. 

"  I  was  never  so  deceived  in  a  boy  in  my  life," 
remarked  the  banker  with  a  troubled  look,  when 
the  officer  had  gone  with  his  prisoner.  ' '  He  has 
a  remarkably  strong  character,  and  had  he  taken 
the  right  course  in  life,  would  have  made  an  able 
man.  It  always  makes  me  sad  to  see  a  bright 
boy,  just  entering  upon  his  career,  start  in  a  way 
that  is  sure  to  result  in  disgrace  and  ruin." 


156  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  His  associates  have  doubtless  had  a  bad  in- 
fluence over  him,"  said  Herbert,  as  if  trying  to 
soften  the  boy's  offense. 

"It  is  certainly  praiseworthy  in  you,  Mr. 
Randolph,  to  speak  so  kindly  of  one  who  caused 
you  so  much  suffering  as  that  boy  did,"  returned 
Mr.  Goldwin. 

"  Well,  since  his  evil  purpose  has  recoiled  upon 
himself,  he  is  now  the  chief  sufferer  ;  and  besides, 
I  do  not  think  he  wanted  to  injure  me  farther 
than  to  get  me  out  of  his  way.  And  he  knew 
no  other  plan,  I  suppose,  than  to  keep  me  a 
prisoner. ' ' 

' '  I  am  glad  to  see  you  view  the  matter  so 
charitably,"  said  the  banker  warmly,  for  he  ap- 
preciated highly  this  glimpse  of  Herbert's  char- 
acter. 

' '  But  what  do  you  say  to  old  Gunwagner  ?  ' ' 
put  in  Bob. 

' '  I  think  he  is  a  heartless  old  wretch, ' '  answered 
young  Randolph,  with  fire  in  his  eyes.  "It  is 
he  who  abused  me  so  cruelly." 

"  You  say  he,  too,  is  locked  up  now?  "  asked 
Mr.  Goldwin. 

"Yes." 

' '  Do  you  think  he  has  any  property  ?  ' ' 

"  I  should  judge  so.  In  fact,  he  tried  to  buy 
us  off  when  he  found  we  had  him  cornered." 

"It  is  possible  that  you  may  be  able  to  get 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  157 

damages  for  false  imprisonment,"  said  the  banker 
thoughtfully. 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  returned  Her- 
bert. 

"  Mind  you,  I  said  it  was  possible  only,  so  do 
not  have  too  great  hopes  of  such  a  result. ' ' 

"  No,  I  will  not;  and  the  damage  was  not  much, 
unless  I  lost  my  situation  with  you,"  replied 
Herbert  somewhat  anxiously. 

"  No,  you  have  not  lost  that,  for  I  shall  rein- 
state you  at  once.  You  have  proved  yourself  to 
be  the  sort  of  young  man  I  desire  in  my  business." 

;<  Thank  you,  sir,  for  your  compliment,  and 
especially  for  reinstating  me.  I  should  be  very 
sorry  to  lose  this  position,  and  I  know  my  father 
and  mother  would  feel  badly,  too. ' ' 

"Do  not  worry  about  that,  my  boy.  Employ- 
ers are  as  anxious  to  get  desirable  clerks  as  clerks 
are  eager  to  be  employed.  But  to  return  to  the 
matter  of  false  imprisonment,  I  will  state  the 
case  to  my  lawyer,  and  see  what  there  is  in  it. 
Of  course  it  would  be  useless  to  fight  him  if  he  is 
worth  nothing." 

' '  He  said  he  had  plenty  of  money — enough  to 
make  us  all  rich,"  put  in  Bob,  with  some  enthu- 
siasm. "  It  would  be  a  great  act  to  make  him 
come  down  handsome.  I'd  like  to  see  it  done." 

"  Those  fellows  usually  have  a  lot  of  money," 
said  Mr.  Goldvvin,"  and  I  agree  with  you  Bob — I 


158  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

will  call  you  by  that  name  hereafter — that  it 
would  be  gratifying  to  recover  damages." 

"  That's  right,  I  like  to  be  called  Bob — every- 
body calls  me  that. ' ' 

"  Well,  Bob,  you  are  a  character.  I  shall  take 
a  great  interest  in  your  development,  for  I  think 
you  have  done  the  smartest  thing,  in  getting  your 
friend  out  of  old  Gunwagner's  clutches,  that  I 
ever  knew  a  boy  of  your  age  to  do. ' ' 

Bob's  cheeks  became  highly  colored.  He  had 
not  been  accustomed  to  praise,  and  such  compli- 
ments as  these  from  a  rich  banker  were  unwieldy 
for  him. 

"Tom  Flannery  helped  me,"  said  the  young 
detective,  generously  trying  to  throw  some  of  the 
glory  upon  Tom. 

' '  Tom  Flaunery  !     Who  is  he  ?  " 

' '  He  is  a  fellow  what  sells  papers  too.  Me 
and  him  worked  this  case  up  together. ' ' 

"  What  sort  of  a  boy  is  he — sharp,  like  your- 
self, I  suppose  ?  ' ' 

"  Well,  he  done  some  good  work  helpin'  me," 
replied  Bob,  evading  the  question  as  to  Tom's 
keenness. 

The  fact  is  that  young  Flannery  was  not  won- 
derfully sharp  ;  but  Bob  liked  him  for  his  honest, 
good  natured  self,  and  therefore  would  only 
speak  in  praise  of  him. 

The  banker  drew  Bob  out,  and  learned  of  the 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  159 

fire  act  that  Tom  performed  so  satisfactorily. 
But  his  keen  sense  detected  the  truth  of  the 
matter,  and  he  was  satisfied  as  to  where  the  real 
merit  lay. 

' '  Bob, ' '  said  he,  ' '  your  modesty  and  your 
efforts  to  throw  much  of  the  credit  on  Tom  Flan- 
nery  are  certainly  becoming  to  you.  I  like  you 
for  the  spirit  you  show.  But,  nevertheless,  I 
recognize  in  you  the  chief  of  the  undertaking — 
the  one  who  planned  and  carried  out  the  entire 
scheme.  Now,  here  is  a  little  present  for  you  ;  I 
want  you  to  take  it  and  buy  you  a  good  suit  of 
clothes,  so  that  you  will  be  as  well  dressed  as 
Herbert.  I  believe  you  room  together  ? ' ' 

"  Yes,  we  do,"  said  Bob.  "But  I  don't  want 
no  present.  I  can  earn  some  money  to  buy  clothes 
with." 

"  But  I  want  you  to  take  it,"  replied  Mr.  Gold- 
win.  "  You  have  done  a  great  act  of  kindness 
to  Herbert,  and  to  me  as  well ;  for  sooner  or  later 
we  would  doubtless  have  suffered  a  loss  by  Felix 
Mortimer. ' ' 

Bob  took  the  crisp  new  bills  reluctantly — four 
of  them,  five  dollars  each — twenty  dollars — he 
had  never  held  so  much  money  in  his  hands  at 
any  one  time  before,  and  this  was  all  his  own. 

He  felt  bewildered.  After  a  moment's  pause, 
however,  he  said,  "  Mayn't  I  give  some  of  this 
to  Tom  Flannery  ?  ' ' 


160  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  expected  you  would  say  that,"  replied  the 
banker,  enjoying  Bob's  surprise,  "  so  I  retained 
a  five  dollar  bill  for  Tom.  Here  it  is ;  give  it 
to  him,  with  my  regards.  He,  too,  did  us  a  ser- 
vice in  aiding  you  as  he  did." 

Bob's  joy  was  now  beyond  expression.  He 
looked,  however,  the  thankfulness  that  he  could 
not  find  words  to  express. 

"  You  may  go  now,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin  kindly. 
"  I  will  keep  you  in  mind,  and  see  what  I  can  do 
for  you.  Come  and  see  me  within  a  few  days. ' ' 

Bob  thanked  Mr.  Goldwin  heartily,  and  left 
the  bank  overflowing  with  happiness.  When 
the  young  detective  had  gone,  Mr.  Goldwin 
asked  Herbert  many  questions  about  him. 

"I  think  he  is  a  promising  lad,"  said  the 
banker.  "I  have  taken  a  great  liking  to  him. 
He  is  possessed  of  a  droll,  comical  way  that  is 
very  pleasing." 


XXI. 

"TS  that  you,  Bob  Hunter?"  said  Tom  Flan  - 
nery,  his  eyes  opened  wide  with  surprise. 

"I  should  think  it  is,"  laughed  the  young 
detective. 

"Say,  Bob,  where  did  you  get  'em?"  con- 
tinued Tom,  somewhat  in  doubt  of  his  own 
senses. 

"Why,  I  bought  'em,  of  course.  How  does 
anybody  get  new  clothes  ? ' ' 

"They  are  slick,  though,  ain't  they,  Bob?" 
said  young  Flauuery  admiringly.  "  And  they  fit 
stunnin',  too.  You  must  er  struck  a  snap  some- 
where, Bob." 

"I  should  think  I  did,"  replied  the  latter; 
' '  the  best  snap  any  er  the  boys  ever  struck. ' ' 

' '  Bob,  you  was  always  lucky.  I  wish  I  was  as 
lucky  as  you  are.  I  never  strike  no  snaps,  Bob." 

"Don't  you?"  said  young  Hunter  medi- 
tatively. 

"  No,  they  don't  never  come  my  way,"  re- 
sponded Tom  dolefully. 

Bob  turned  the  lapels  of  his  coat  back  and 
threw  out  his  chest  ponderously. 
161 


1 62  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Tom,"  said  he,  with  the  air  of  a  Wall  Street 
banker,  "here's  a  five  for  you,"  taking  a  new, 
crisp  bill  from  his  vest  pocket. 

"For  me,  Bob!"  exclaimed  Tom  incredu- 
lously. 

' '  Why,  3'es,  of  course  it's  for  you.    Why  not  ? ' ' 

"I  don't  understand  it,  Bob,"  said  young 
Flannery,  completely  upset. 

"  Why,  it's  one  of  them  snaps.  You  said  you 
never  had  any  luck  like  me,  so  I  thought  I'd  just 
give  you  some." 

"  Bob,  you're  a  dandy.  I  never  see  any  feller 
do  things  the  way  you  do. ' ' 

"Well,  I  do  try  to  throw  a  little  style  into 
'em,  when  it's  handy  to  do  it." 

' '  I  should  think  you  do. ' ' 

"  You  see,  Tom,  it  don't  cost  no  more  to  do 
things  as  they  ought  to  be.  I  believe  in  doing 
'em  right ;  that's  what  I  say." 

"But,  you  see,  Bob,  believing  in  'em  and 
knowing  how  to  do  'em  is  two  different  things. 
Now  I  believe  in  'em  just  the  same  as  what  you 
do,  but  I  can't  do  'em  the  same  way." 

"  Well,  you  ain't  so  old,  Tom." 

"  I  know  I  ain't,  but  that  don't  make  no  dif- 
ference, for  when  you  was  no  older  than  what  I 
am,  why  you  done  things  in  a  awful  grand  \vay. " 

Bob  here  explained  to  Tom  that  the  five  dollar 
bill  was  a  present  to  him  from  Richard  Goldwin, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  163 

the  banker,  and  told  him  also  about  his  own  good 
luck. 

' '  And  he  gave  you  all  that  money  to  buy  these 
clothes  with  !  He  is  a  bully  old  fellow,  ain't  he, 
Bob?  "  said  Tom  Flannery,  greatly  astonished. 

"I  should  say  so,"  responded  Bob.  "  But  I 
didn't  spend  it  all,  though." 

"  How  much  did  you  put  up  for  'em,  Bob  ?  " 
"  Fifteen  dollars  ;  that' sail." 
"  They  are  swell,  though,  I  tell  you,  Bob,  and 
you  look  like  kind  of  a  masher,"  said  Tom,  criti- 
cising them  carefully. 

"Well,  I  ain't  no  masher,  but  I  think  myself 
they  do  look  kinder  slick." 

"And  you  got  five  dollars  left,  too  ?  " 
"  Yes,  jest  the  same  as  what  you  have,  Tom." 
' '  What  you  goin'  to  do  with  it,  Bob  ?  ' ' 
"  I  hain't  thought  about  that  yet.     What  you 
goin'  to  do  with  yourn?  " 

"  I  guess  I'll  keep  it,  Bob,  till  next  summer, 
and  put  it  up  on  the  races. ' ' 

' '  What  do  you  want  to  do  that  for,  Tom  Flan- 
nery ?  ' '  returned  Bob,  with  disgust. 

"  Why,  to  make  some  money,  of  course." 
' '  Are  you  sure  you  will  make  it  ?  " 
"  Of  course  I  am,  Bob.     Nobody  what  knows 
anything  at  all  can't  lose  when  he  has  so  much 
as  five  dollars  to  back  him.      It's  them  that  don't 
have  nothiu'  what  gets  broke  on  racin'." 


1 64  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  You  know  all  about  it,  I  suppose?  " 

"Why,  of  course  I  do,  Bob;  I've  made  a 
stake  lots  of  times. ' ' 

"  And  lost  lots  of  times,  too,  I  s'pose." 

"Well,  that's  because  I  didn't  have  enough 
capital." 

"But  answer  me  this,  Tom  Flaunery,"  said 
Bob  pointedly:  "You  admit  you  did  get  wiped 
out  at  bettin',  do  you?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  I  s'pose  I  did,  Bob." 

"  And  you'll  get  broke  again,  if  you  go  at  it. 
I  tell  you,  Tom,  they  all  get  left,  them  that  bets 
on  horse  racing." 

"  But  don't  some  of  them  make  slats  of  money  ? 
Answer  me  that." 

"They  don't  make  no  money  what  sticks  to 
'em." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Bob  ?  ' ' 

"  I  mean  that  they  lose  it  the  same  way  they 
make  it,  so  it  don't  stick  to  'em.  Do  you  see  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  see.  But  how's  a  feller  like  me  goin' 
to  make  any  money,  Bob,  if  he  don't  bet  any  ?  " 

"Now,  Tom,  you're  gettin'  to  somethin'  I've 
been  thinkin'  about,  and  I'll  let  you  into  the 
secret.  You  see,  Tom,  I  don't  believe  in  horse 
bettin'  the  way  you  do,  but  I  ain't  afraid  to  take 
chances  all  the  same." 

"What  is  it,  Bob?"  interrupted  Tom,  eager 
to  get  into  the  secret. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  165 

"Wall  Street,"  replied  Bob,  striking  the  atti- 
tude of  a  money  king. 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Bob?"  asked  young  Flan- 
nery  incredulously. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  it,  Tom.  There's  piles  of 
money  down  there." 

"  I  know  there  is,  Bob,  but  how  are  fellers  like 
you  'n'  me  going  to  get  it?  " 

"Why,  by  speculating  of  course.  How  does 
any  of  'em  make  it  ?  " 

"  Them  fellers  are  all  rich,  Bob.  They  didn't 
go  down  there  the  same  as  what  we  would  go, 
with  only  five  dollars,"  replied  Tom. 

"  They  didn't,  did  they  ?  Well,  tell  me  if  Jay 
Gould,  and  the  old  man  Sage,  and  half  a  dozen 
more  of  them  big  fellers,  didn't  go  into  Wall 
Street  without  a  cent  ?  ' ' 

"  I  can't  tell  you,  Bob  ;  I  never  heard  any- 
body say,"  answered  Tom  humbly. 

"Well,  Tom  Flannery,  I  should  think  you 
would  find  out  such  things.  Don't  you  never 
want  to  know  anything?  " 

"  I  ain't  been  thinkin'  about  Wall  Street  and 
them  fellers  you  speak  about,  Bob,"  apologized 
Tom.  "  But  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  about  'em,  for 
I'd  like  to  know  how  they  made  their  money." 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  some  other  time,"  said 
Bob,  with  assumed  ease.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
however,  he  did  not  know  himself,  but  was  not 


1 66  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

willing  to  admit  so  much  to  Tom.  He  therefore 
decided  to  change  the  subject  at  once  before  get- 
ting cornered. 

"Now,  Tom,"  he  continued,  "I'll  tell  you 
what  it  is.  I've  jest  thought  what  we'll  do, 
you  'n'  me  and  Herbert." 

"What  is  it,  Bob?" 

"Well,  you  see  we  got  knocked  out  of  our 
breakfast  this  morning,  Tom,  so  I  think  the  best 
thing  we  can  do  is  to  have  a  big  dinner  tonight. ' ' 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Bob,"  said  Tom  eagerly. 

"  You  see,  'twould  be  a  celebration  of  the  way 
we  worked  the  detective  business. ' ' 

"So  'twould,  Bob.  That's  a  good  idea,  I 
think." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Tom,  and  we'll  have  a  regu- 
lar first  class  layout. ' ' 

"It  will  be  immense,  Bob,"  said  Tom,  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I  never  had  a  big  dinner,  Bob." 

"  No,  I  should  think  you  never  did,  but  you 
won't  be  hungry,  Tom,  when  you  get  done  with 
the  one  we  will  have  tonight." 

"  I  hope  I  won't,  Bob." 

"So  do  I,"  answered  Bob  comically. 

"When  will  Herbert  be  here?"  asked  Tom, 
looking  at  the  large  Tribune  clock. 

"  It's  time  for  him  to  show  up  now." 

"I  should  think  so,  too,"  replied  Tom,  with 
an  expression  of  doubt. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  167 

He  was  thinking  about  that  morning's  ex- 
perience when  Herbert  failed  to  appear  till  after 
he  had  breakfasted. 

In  a  little  time  young  Randolph  joined  them. 
He  was  as  much  surprised  as  Tom  had  been  at 
the  change  made  in  Bob's  personal  appearance 
by  his  handsome  new  suit. 

' '  You  must  go  down  and  let  Mr.  Goldwiu  see 
you  with  it  on,"  said  he. 

"When  shall  we  start,  Bob?"  put  in  Tom 
Flannery,  who  couldn't  see  the  propriety  in  de- 
laying dinner  simply  to  discuss  new  clothes. 

' '  Are  you  so  very  hungry  ?  ' '  laughed  Bob 
good  naturedly. 

"I  should  think  I  am,  for  I  haven't  had  no 
dinner. ' ' 

"It  don't  make  no  difference,  Tom,  whether 
you  did  or  not.  You'd  be  starvin'  all  the  same." 

"Well,  I  can't  help  it;  I  think  it's  time  to 
eat,  don't  you,  Herbert?" 

"Yes,  it  is  about  time  for  dinner,"  replied  our 
hero.  "  Are  you  ready  to  go,  Bob  ?  " 

"  Yes,  but  we  won't  go  up  to  the  Boss  Tweed 
tonight,"  replied  the  young  detective  pompously. 

' '  Bob  is  goiu'  to  ask  us  up  town  for  a  big  lay- 
out," said  Tom. 

Herbert  looked  doubtful. 

' '  That's  so, ' '  said  Bob.  ' '  We  will  have  kind 
of  a  blowout  all  by  ourselves. ' ' 


1 68  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  And  shall  we  do  the  town  afterwards,  as  the 
bloods  say  ?  ' '  asked  Tom. 

' '  What  does  '  doing  the  town  '  mean  ?  ' '  asked 
Herbert.  The  expression  was  new  to  him. 

"It'sgoin*  round  and  seeing  the  sights,"  re- 
plied Bob.  "But  come,  let's  be  movin'.  We 
can  talk  about  doin'  the  town  while  we  are  at 
dinner." 

"So  I  say,"  said  Tom,  with  characteristic 
hunger. 


XXII. 

EWHITTAKER  !  This  is  splendid,  Bob.  I 
didn't  think  we  was  coming  to  no  such 
tony  place  as  what  this  is, ' '  said  Tom  Flanuery. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  it  wa'n't  no  Jim  Fisk  or 
Boss  Tweed  ranch  ?  ' '  replied  Bob. 

"  So  you  did,  Bob  ;  but  you  see  I  didn't  know 
about  them  big  glass — what  do  you  call  'em  ?  " 

' '  Chandeliers, ' '  suggested  Herbert. 

"Chandeliers,  that's  it;  but  ain't  they  stun- 
niu',  though  ? " 

"Well,  there  ain't  nothiu'  mean  about  'em,  I 
should  think,"  answered  Bob. 

"  No,  nor  'bout  anything  here,"  said  Tom.  "  I 
never  see  so  much  style  slung  round  before,  did 
you,  Herbert?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  young  Randolph 
carelessly. 

"Say,  Tom,  don't  make  so  much  fuss  about 
this  place.  'Tain't  nothin',  Tom,  beside  some 
er  the  tony  places  further  up  town." 

A  waiter  now  came  along  and  handed  a  bill  of 
fare  to  Bob,  and  took  away  the  glasses  to  fill 
them  with  ice. 

169 


1 70  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  Do  them  fellers  always  dress  up  so  with 
a  swallowtail  on,  Bob?"  asked  Tom. 

"Yes,  at  a  swell  place,  like  this  is,  they  do," 
answered  Bob.  ' '  Now  that  waiter  he  will  be 
right  back  and  want  our  orders.  The  first  thing 
is  soup,  and  there's  three  kinds— potage  Jzdienne , 
supreme,  and  consomme"  a  la  royale.  Which  will 
you  have,  Herbert  ?  ' ' 

"You  may  give  me  the  potage  Julienne,"  re- 
plied the  young  Vermonter. 

"Say  'em  again,  Bob;  I  didn't  quite  catch 
'em  before,"  said  Tom. 

Bob  smiled,  and  obeyed  the  request. 

"Why  not  have  'em  all,  Bob?"  said  Tom 
eagerly. 

"  'Cause  'tain't  regular  to  do  that  way." 

"  Well,  they  are  all  on  there  for  us,  ain't 
they?" 

' '  They  are  on  for  us  to  take  whichever  one 
we  want. ' ' 

"  And  I  can't  have  but  one?  " 

"No." 

' '  Well,  I  thought  at  these  er — what  do  you 
call  'em? — dinners  a  feller  had  everything  in  the 
old  bill,  if  he  wanted  it." 

"  Table  d'hote,  you  mean,  Tom  Flannery,  but 
you're  way  off,  you  are  ;  nobody  ever  has  every- 
thing." 

Tom  looked  disappointed,  even  sad. 


THE;  BOY  BROKER.  171 

"Well,"  continued  Bob,  "  I'm  waiting  for  your 
order.  Which  soup  will  you  have  ? ' ' 

"  Which  you  goin'  to  have,  Bob?  " 

"  I'm  goin'  to  have  the  consommt." 

"  Then  I'll  take  the  other  one,"  said  Tom. 

"The  supreme?  " 

"  That's  him,"  replied  Tom. 

"  Why  do  you  prefer  that?  "  laughed  Herbert. 

"Well,  you  see,  it  sounds  better.  That  one 
that  Bob  has  took  I  can't  make  no  sense  out  of 
it,  nohow,  and  I  don't  believe  it's  good  to  eat, 
either — anything  with  a  name  like  that." 

' '  But  the  name  of  your  soup  is  not  much 
better." 

"  That's  so,  Herbert.  Blamed  if  I  know  what 
they  wants  to  put  such  on  fer  a  feller  to  eat  fer, ' ' 
said  Tom,  with  an  air  of  disgust. 

"Well,  Tom,  you  may  as  well  get  used  to 
these  names,  for  you'll  get  a  lot  of  'em  before 
you  get  through  this  bill,"  said  Bob,  laughing. 

"  Them  names  don't  go  all  the  way  through, 
do  they,  Bob?"  asked  Tom,  alarmed. 

"  Yes,  plumb  through  to  the  end." 

"Well,  that  will  spoil  my  dinner,  then,  for  I 
don't  know  nothing  about  such  words." 

"  No,  I  guess  it  won't  spoil  your  dinner,  Tom  ; 
I'll  bet  you  will  eat  like  a  hungry  tramp  before 
we  get  through." 

"Maybe  I  will,  Bob  Hunter,  but  I'd  like  to 


172  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

know  what  I'm  eatin'  all  the  same,"  replied  Tom, 
somewhat  indignant.  He  did  not  like  to  be  com- 
pared to  a  hungry  tramp. 

"  That's  all  right,  Tom  Flannery  ;  now  don't 
you  get  off  your  base  so  sudden-like.  You  will 
think  }TOU  never  struck  a  layout  like  this  before 
you  get  half  \vay  down  the  bill,"  said  Bob,  try- 
ing to  restore  good  feeling. 

"Well,  I  hope  I  will  ;  that's  what  I  say.  A 
feller  ought  to  get  something  good  when  he  has 
to  wade  through  such  blamed  old  names  as  these, 
that  don't  mean  nothin'." 

"  But  they  do  mean  somethin',  jest  as  much  as 
what  our  words  mean  to  us. ' ' 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Bob  Hunter,  that 
anybody  uses  these  words  ?  ' ' 

' '  Of  course  they  do,  Tom.  The)'  are  French 
words,  and  French  folks  know  what  the)7  mean." 

Tom  thought  for  a  moment ;  then  he  said  : 

' '  I  was  way  off,  Bob.  I  thought  it  was  some 
words  jest  made  up  for  this  bill,  'cause  you  see  I 
don't  know  nothin'  about  French." 

The  waiter  now  reappeared,  bringing  with  him 
two  long  rolls  of  French  bread,  a  supply  of  butter, 
and  three  glasses  of  ice  water. 

Presently  the  soup  was  brought  on. 

"Sail  right  in  now,  Herbert,  you  and  Tom," 
said  Bob.  ' '  The  next  course  will  be  right  along. ' ' 

Tom  took  a  few  drops  timidly,  then  a  larger 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  173 

portion — less  timidly — and  now  he  put  on  a  full 
head  of  steam  and  worked  the  spoon  like  a  trip 
hammer. 

When  his  plate  was  empty  he  said,  "  I  think 
I  struck  it  right,  Bob ;  I  knew  I  hit  the  best 
name. ' ' 

"  Why,  was  yours  good,  Tom?  "  replied  Bob. 

"  I  should  think  it  was,  Bob.  It  was  way  up  ; 
that's  what  it  was.  You  see  'tain't  always,  Bob, 
that  a  feller  can  pick  a  winner  the  first  time. ' ' 

"Now  you're  givin'  us  some  more  of  your 
horse  racin'  expressions,  Tom.  Can't  you  never 
let  'em  alone,  'specially  at  a  tony  dinner  like  this 
is?"  said  Bob. 

"  Well,  I  didn't  think  about  that,  Bob.  I  didn't 
mean  to  do  nothin'  wrong.  But  you  see,  Bob,  I 
didn't  know  of  no  other  way  to  get  at  it.  This 
orderin'  stuff  by  these  blamed  words  is  takin' 
chances — what  I  call  bigger  chances  than  bettin' 
on  a  horse  race." 

Young  Randolph  and  Bob  laughed  heartily  at 
Tom's  remarks. 

The  next  course  was  now  put  on  the  table.  It 
came  in  a  large  platter.  Three  plates  were  placed 
before  Bob,  and  he  served  the  fish  and  potatoes  in 
a  very  creditable  manner. 

"  Now  comes  the  entries"  said  Bob. 

"What  are  them  things,  Bob?"  said  Tom, 
while  ravenously  devouring  the  portion  before  him. 


174  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Well,  I  was  jest  goin'  to  give  'em  to  you 
when  you  busted  in  on  me, ' '  replied  Bob.  ' '  Here 
they  are  : 

"  Fillet  piqut. 

"  Fricandeau  de  Veau. 

' '  Pdtes  aux  htiitres. ' ' 

"Can't  a  fellow  get  more'n  one  go  at  'em, 
Bob  ?  ' '  said  Tom  comically. 

"That's  all — only  one  go,  Tom;  which  will 
you  have  ?  ' ' 

"  I'll  take  the  first  one,  Bob." 

"Tlie  fillet  piqut?" 

"  Yes,  if  that's  the  first  one." 

"Well,  'tis;  but,  Tom,  you're  way  off.  You 
didn't  pick  no  winner  this  time,  as  you  say,  for 
that  dish  ain't  no  good." 

' '  Where  did  you  get  on  to  them  blamed 
names,  Bob?  You're  slingin'  jest  as  much  style 
here,  too,  as  you  did  in  the  detective  business. ' ' 

"  Well,  why  wouldn't  I  know  'bout  'em,  Tom  ? 
Didn't  I  work  in  one  of  these  places  for  a  good 
while,  and  didn't  I  pay  some  attention  to  the  way 
things  was  done  ?  ' ' 

"  So  you  did,  Bob  ;  I  didn't  think  about  that. " 

"  I,  too,  have  been  surprised,  Bob,  to  see  how 
familiar  you  seemed  with  the  various  dishes," 
said  Herbert. 

"  Well,  that's  how  it  come.  You  see  I  picked 
it  up."  • 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  1 75 

' '  But  you  are  as  much  at  ease  serving  the  din- 
ner as  I  am  at  eating  it." 

"  How  much  ?  "  said  Bob,  feeling  in  his  pocket 
for  loose  change. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Herbert  seri- 
ously. 

Bob  smiled,  and  Tom  burst  into  a  character- 
istic laugh.  It  was  the  first  time  since  the  din- 
ner commenced  that  he  had  seen  the  funny  side 
of  anything.  Tom  Flannery  was  not  given  to 
looking  upon  the  comical  side.  He  was  too 
credulous  for  that  ;  but  when  anything  did  strike 
him  as  funny,  and  he  made  up  his  mind  to  treat  it 
as  such,  the  outburst  of  laughter  that  followed — 
so  rich  and  child-like — would  do  one  good. 

Now,  there  was  nothing  especially  bright  or 
funny  about  Bob's  remark  that  should  have 
caused  Tom  to  become  so  hilarious.  In  fact,  it 
was  more  Herbert's  serious  manner,  than  what 
Bob  said,  that  set  him  off. 

"  'Twas  an  old  chestnut,  anyway,  Bob,"  as 
Tom  said  the  next  day  ;  ' '  but  Herbert  looked  so 
honest  about  it,  jest  as  if  you  wasn't  talkin'  jokes, 
that  it  jest  made  me  lay  myself  out  and  shout.  I 
couldn't  er  stopped,  Bob,  ef  it  had  killed  me." 

When  the  laughter  had  subsided,  Bob  ex- 
plained his  joke  to  Herbert,  and  then  said  : 

' '  You  have  not  told  me  what  you  will  have. 
Here  comes  the  waiter  for  our  orders. ' ' 


176  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  You  order  'em,  Bob, ' '  said  Tom.  ' '  You  know 
what's  good." 

"That  is  a  good  suggestion,  Tom,  and  meets 
with  my  approval,"  remarked  Herbert. 

Bob  accordingly  ordered  for  all  three,  and  his 
selection  gave  excellent  satisfaction  to  his  guests. 

The  next  course  was  simply  maccaroni,  cooked 
in  the  Italian  style,  with  tomato  dressing. 

"  This  is  bang  up,  Bob,"  said  Tom  Flatmery, 
smacking  his  lips.  ' '  Them  Eyetaliaus  are  some 
good  after  all,  ain't  they  ?  " 

Roast  duck  followed  the  maccaroni,  with  jelly, 
and  fine  cut  celery  with  dressing. 

Then  came  ice  cream,  followed  by  cheese — 
frontage  de  Brie. 

"Bob,  there's  somethin'  wrong  about  this," 
said  Tom  seriously,  referring  to  the  last  course. 
"  Jest  get  on  to  that  piece,  will  you  ?  "  and  Tom 
passed  his  portion  to  Bob. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  now,  Tom  Flannery,"  said 
Bob,  with  assumed  displeasure,  while  he  strug- 
gled hard  to  keep  from  giggling. 

"Well,  I  ain't  no  fool,  Bob  ;  I  guess  I  know 
when  I  know  a  thing,"  said  Tom  indignantly. 
' '  I  tell  you  that  piece  is  all  spoilt ; ' '  and,  to  make 
sure  of  his  statement,  he  took  it  in  his  fingers, 
and  without  regard  to  good  manners,  placed  it 
close  to  his  nose,  and  gave  it  a  genuine  test. 

Bob  threw  himself  back  in  the  chair,  and  ex- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  177 

ploded  with  laughter.  Herbert  did  likewise.  But 
Tom  was  mad.  He  thought  Bob  had  played  a 
trick  on  him,  and  he  said  : 

' '  I  don' t  intend  to  be  imposed  upon  in  any 
such  way  as  what  this  is,  Bob  Hunter.  I'll  show 
you  that  I  can  put  up  jobs,  too,  ef  you  think  it 
is  so  much  fun." 

Now  Brie  cheese  is  somewhat  soft,  so  much  so 
that  it  many  times  adheres  slightly  to  whatever  it 
touches.  Tom  had  rashly  taken  it  up  in  his  fingers, 
and  now,  while  breathing  forth  malice  and  threats 
against  Bob,  he  chanced  to  put  his  fingers  up  to 
his  mouth.  This  brought  them  again  in  close 
proximity  to  his  nose. 

"  Gewhopper  !  "  yelled  Tom,  as  he  thrust  his 
hand  into  his  trousers  pocket  with  a  view  to  better 
protecting  his  nose.  "I  wouldn't  er  thought 
this  of  you,  Bob  Hunter  !  " 

Both  Bob  and  Herbert  were  convulsed  with 
laughter,  and  were  holding  their  sides  from  pain. 

From  the  fact  that  they  laughed  so  uncon- 
trollably, and  that  they  did  not  deny  his  charge, 
Tom  felt  sure  that  he  had  been  made  the  butt  of 
a  foul  joke,  and  he  resented  it  spunkily.  Con- 
sequently, the  more  Tom  said,  the  harder  Bob  and 
Herbert  laughed.  At  length,  however,  Bob 
quieted  down  sufficiently  to  remark  : 

"  Tom,  listen  to  me.  You're  the  biggest  fool 
I  ever  see." 


178  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Yes,  you  think  you've  made  a  fool  of  me, 
don't  you,  Bob  Hunter?  But  you  hain't,  for  I 
got  on  to  your  game  before  I  got  any  er  that 
durned  stuff  into  my  mouth. ' ' 

"Oh,  don't  you  be  so  ignorant,  Tom  Flan- 
nery.  The  trouble  is  with  you,  you're  a  chump; 
you  don't  know  nothiu'  about  liviu'  at  high  toned 
places  like  this  is." 

"  No,  nor  I  don't  want  to,  nuther,  Bob  Hunter. 
Ef  that  stuff  is  what  you  call  high  toned  livin' , 
why  I  don't  want  no  more  of  it  in  mine.  I'll " 

In  the  excitement  of  the  conversation,  Tom 
forgot  to  keep  his  hand  housed  up  longer  in  his 
pocket,  and  now  the  tips  of  his  fingers  uncon- 
sciously found  their  way  close  to  his  nose  again. 

This  was  what  caused  Torn  to  break  off  his 
sentence  so  abruptly.  He  didn't  say  anything 
for  a  minute,  but  he  looked  a  whole  volume  of 
epithets. 

Herbert  and  Bob  started  in  on  another  round 
of  laughter  that  still  further  irritated  Tom. 

"I'm  goin',"  said  he,  slinging  his  napkin 
savagely  upon  the  table;  "I  won't  stand  this 
business  no  more,  Bob  Hunter." 

"  Sit  down,  Tom,"  commanded  Bob  ;  "  there's 
more  to  come  yet.  You  hain't  had  no  coffee  yet, 
nor  nuts  and  raisins. ' ' 

Tom  immediately  replaced  the  napkin  in  his 
lap,  and  pulled  up  to  the  table  again.  Coffee, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  179 

nuts,  and  raisins  !  Oh,  no,  Tom  Flannery  couldn't 
allow  his  grievance  to  deprive  him  of  these  lux- 
uries ! 

"  Now,  Tom,"  said  Bob,  "  I  jest  want  to  show 
you  that  you've  made  a  fool  of  yourself,  and  that 
we  hain't  made  no  fool  of  you.  Of  course  we 
couldn't  help  laughin'  to  see  you  actin'  so  re- 
dikerlus,  Tom,  and  all  about  a  little  piece  of 
cheese,  too.  A  feller  would  er  thought,  Tom, 
that  you'd  been  dumped  in  a  sewer,  to  see  you 
carry  on  ;  but  when  you  get  one  er  them  crazy 
notions  in  your  head,  why,  the  only  thing  to  do 
with  you  is  to  let  you  sail  in  and  enjoy  yourself." 

Bob  then  ate  his  choice  bit  of  Brie  with  a  keen 
relish,  much  to  the  surprise  of  Tom,  and  I  may 
say  Herbert  as  well,  for  the  latter 's  taste  had  not 
been  educated  up  to  the  point  where  he  could  eat 
such  food. 

At  length  reconciliation  was  reached,  and  Tom 
was  once  more  happy.  When  the  coffee  had 
been  drunk,  the  three  boys,  while  eating  nuts  and 
raisins,  discussed  the  problem  of  money  making. 

"How  about  the  Wall  Street  racket?"  re- 
marked Tom. 

' '  You  refer  to  speculating,  I  suppose  ?  ' '  replied 
Herbert. 

"Yes.  You  see  my  capital  ain't  earnin'  me 
nothin' . ' ' 

"Well,  I   have   had  very  little  time  to  think 


l8o  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

about  that  since  we  first  spoke  of  it.  In  fact,  I 
am  not  in  favor  of  the  idea. ' ' 

"  What  !  Not  in  favor  of  spekerlatin'  ?  "  said 
Bob,  with  astonishment. 

"  Nuther  am  I,"  put  in  Tom  wisely  ;  "  I  don't 
think  it's  safe." 

' '  But  you  think  it's  safe  to  bet  on  horse  racin' , 
don't  you,  Tom  Flannery  ?  " 

"Well,  it's  safer'n  what  spekerlatin'  is  ;  that's 
what  I  think,  Bob  Hunter." 

"  Humph  !  You  know  a  lot,  don't  you,  Tom 
Flannery  ? ' ' 

"  No,  I  don't  know  a  lot  about  them  Wall 
Street  schemes,  ef  that's  what  you  mean ;  but  I 
guess  I  can  pick  a  winner  at  racin' . ' ' 

"  Well,  ef  you  don't  know  nothiu'  about  spek- 
erlatin', how  are  you  goin'  to  use  any  judg- 
ment? Tell  me  that,  now,  Tom  Flannery." 

"You  kinder  want  to  bulldoze  me,  don't  }TOU, 
Bob  Hunter?  You've  got  your  head  sot  on 
spekerlatin',  and  you  want  to  make  me  think  jest 
like  you  do. ' ' 

"  You  tire  me,  Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob,  with 
a  great  show  of  disgust.  "I'd  try  and  have 
some  sense,  ef  I  was  you." 

"All  right,  Bob,  then  I'll  try  'n'  have  some 
sense — I'll  do  jest  as  you  say,  and  spekerlate  till 
my  five  dollars  is  all  blowed  in.  Now,  does  that 
satisfy  you,  Bob  ?  " 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  181 

Tom  Flannery  had  almost  always  yielded 
readily  to  Bob's  judgment.  This  sudden  inde- 
pendence of  opinion,  therefore,  was  a  surprise  to 
young  Hunter. 

"Why,  that's  all  right,  Tom,"  said  he,  in- 
stantly changing  his  attitude.  "I  don't  care 
nothiu'  about  your  spekerlatin'  ef  you  don't  want 
to;  but  I  v.ant  to  make  some  money,  that's  what 
I  do,  and  I  thought  you  did,  too,  Tom." 

"  So  I  do,  Bob,  so  I  do  ;  but  you  see  so  many 
folks  loses  money  down  there  in  Wall  Street,  and 
some  of  them  big  fellers,  too,  with  heaps  of 
money,  just  dead  loads  of  it,  to  back  'em." 

"Well,  that's  so,  Tom,  I  know  they  loses 
sometimes,  but  don't  lots  of  'em  make  money? 
Now  answer  me  that." 

"Yes,  you  are  right,  Bob,  they  do  some  of 
'em  strike  it  rich ;  but  as  you  said  about  the 
racin',  I  guess  the  money  ain't  good  money,  fer 
it  don't  stick  to  'em." 

"  Well,  I  should  think  it  stuck  to  Jay  Gould, 
didn't  it?" 

"Yes,  he  is  one  of  the  few  successful  ones," 
said  Herbert,  answering  the  question  for  Tom. 

"  Yes,  but  there  are  lots  and  lots  of  them  kings 
of  Wall  Street,"  persisted  Bob,  who  had  a  strong 
desire  to  become  a  speculator. 

''So  there  are,  Bob,"  replied  Herbert,  "but 
they  do  not  hold  their  rank  throughout  their  lives. 


1 82  THE  BOY  BROKE. 

A  man  that  is  called  a  king  in  Wall  Street  one 
day  may  be  a  beggar  the  next  day. ' ' 

"Think  of  that,  Bob,"  put  in  Tom  Flannery 
exultantly. 

"  Well,  I  know,  but  then  them  kings  don't  all 
go  up  like  that. ' ' 

"  But  the  majority  of  them  do.  If  you  will 
get  a  book  that  gives  the  history  of  Wall  Street, 
you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  thousands,  hun- 
dreds of  thousands,  and  even  millions,  are  swept 
away  almost  without  warning." 

' '  Whew  !  Just  think  of  it  !  A  whole  million 
dollars!"  exclaimed  Tom.  "Say,  Herbert,  how 
much  is  a  million  dollars  ?  It  must  be  a  whoppin' 
big  pile  ;  that's  what  I  think." 

"  A  million  dollars — let  me  see,  Tom,  how  I  can 
explain  it  so  that  you  will  comprehend  its ' ' 

"  So  I  will  what  ?"  interrupted  Tom,  doubtful 
of  the  meaning  of  the  word  ' '  comprehend. ' ' 

Herbert  made  this  clear,  and  then  said  : 

"Now,  Tom,  you  have  a  five  dollar  bill, 
and " 

"  Yes,  and  it's  a  new  one,  too,  crisp  as  a  ginger 
snap,"  interrupted  young  Flannery. 

"  All  right,  then,  a  new  five  dollar  bill.  Now, 
suppose  you  had  altogether  twenty  bills  just  like 
this  one,  you  would  have  how  much  money  ? ' ' 
inquired  Herbert. 

M  Can  you  tell,  Bob?  "  said  Tom,  grinning. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  183 

"  Why,  of  course  I  can  !  "  replied  Bob,  throw- 
ing his  head  back  proudly. 

"  Well,  let's  see  ef  you  can." 

"  One  hundred  dollars,"  answered  Bob. 

"I  guess  that's  right,  Herbert — a  hundred 
dollars  ;  but  I  never  see  so  much  money  all  at 
one  time,  did  you,  Bob?  " 

Herbert  proceeded  with  the  illustration  by 
saying : 

"Then,  Tom,  you  understand  how  many  five 
dollar  bills  it  takes  to  make  one  hundred  dollars. 
Now,  it  would  require  ten  one  hundred  dollar 
bills  to  make  one  one  thousand  dollar  bill." 

"  Gewhopple  !  That's  climbin'  up,  ain't  it, 
Bob?  "  exclaimed  Tom  incredulously. 

"Oh,  but  that's  nothing,"  said  Herbert.  "Just 
listen  :  It  would  take  a  hundred  one  thousand 
dollar  bills  to  make  one  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
and  it  would  require  ten  times  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  to  make  one  million." 

"  Well,  that's  fur  enough,"  said  Tom,  scratch- 
ing his  head.  "  Don't  give  me  no  more  tonight, 
for  I  can't  take  it  in  no  way.  A  million  dollars ; 
and  you  say  some  er  them  kings  loses  so  much 
money  as  all  this  in  almost  no  time  ? ' ' 

"Why,  yes;  perhaps  in  a  single  day,"  an- 
swered Herbert. 

"  And  you  think,  Bob  Hunter,  that  we  could 
go  down  there  with  only  five  dollars  apiece  and 


1 84  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

la>'  out  them  kings  and  scoop  the  boodle,  do  you? 
Now  answer  me  that. ' ' 

"  Well,  it  does  seem  kinder  like  takin'  chances, 
ef  them  fellers  loses  money  like  that." 

"Of  course  it  does,  Bob,  fer  you  see  we 
wouldn't  have  but  one  go  at  the  game  with  only 
five  dollars  ;  would  we,  Herbert?  " 

' '  Five  dollars  wouldn't  go  very  far,  for  a  fact," 
replied  Herbert,  "  and  in  my  opinion  it  would  be 
lost  very  quickly. ' ' 

"But  I've  heard  of  fellers  that  went  down 
there  without  no  money,  and  they  made  loads 
of  it." 

"Very  true,"  said  Herbert;  "but  did  you 
ever  hear  of  the  thousands  that  went  down  there 
and  came  away  without  a  cent  ?  ' ' 

"  No,  I  never  did,"  admitted  Bob  frankly. 

Tom  smiled  quietly,  for  he  felt  that  Bob  would 
have  to  acknowledge  himself  mistaken,  and  at 
last  come  over  to  his  side. 

"Well,  now,  there  is  the  very  point,"  said 
Herbert,  ' '  and  it  is  the  one  that  nobody  stops  to 
think  about.  A  report  is  circulated  that  some 
one  makes  a  big  haul  in  Wall  Street,  and  with- 
out thinking  about  the  thousands  of  people  that 
lose  money  there,  a  thousand  or  two  more  people 
try  their  luck  at  speculating,  thinking,  each  one 
of  them,  to  make  a  great  haul,  too.  But  the  re- 
sult is  the  same  as  it  was  with  the  other  thousand 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  185 

speculators — the  money   is  swallowed   up,    and 
gone  forever." 

' '  What  becomes  of  it  all  ?  "  asked  Bob,  much 
impressed  by  Herbert's  well  founded  argument. 

"Well,  the  most  of  it  goes  into  the  pockets  of 
the  kings. ' ' 

"  Then  I  shouldn't  think  them  kings  would  get 
busted,  as  you  say  they  do,"  said  Bob,  always 
keen  at  making  a  point. 

"  They  would  not  if  they  had  to  deal  only  with 
the  small  speculators,  such  as  you  would  like  to 
be.  If  that  were  the  case  they  would  win  nearly 
every  time.  But  kings  are  the  ones  who  break 
kings." 

"Oh,  I  see  now,"  said  Bob.  "There  are  a 
lot  of  'em,  and  they  jest  go  for  each  other.  Is 
that  it?" 

"Yes,  that  is  the  way  they  do  it." 

"Well,  I  guess  you  are  right,  then,  Herbert 
— you  and  Tom." 

"  I  feel  sure  I  am.  Mr.  Goldwin  talked  with 
me  about  it  today,  and  told  me  never  to  specu- 
late. ' ' 

"But  he  speculates,"  said  Bob,  "and  he  is 
worth  a  lot  of  money. ' ' 

"Oh,  no  ;  never." 

"  What's  he  call  himself  a  broker  for,  then?  " 

"  Why,  a  broker  is  not  necessarily  a  speculator. 
A  broker  is  one  who  buys  and  sells  stocks  or 


1 86  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

bonds  for  some  one  else — for  a  speculator — and  he 
gets  his  commission  or  pay  for  doing  the  business. ' ' 

"Well,  I  guess  I  was  way  off,  Herbert.  I 
thought  all  of  them  brokers  was  speculators,  and 
I  knew  lots  of  'em  was  solid  with  money." 

"  Yes,  that  is  the  way  of  it,"  replied  Herbert. 
"  The  broker  makes  the  money,  and  the  specula- 
tor loses  it  usually." 

"  Don't  brokers  never  lose  nothin',  Herbert?  " 
asked  Tom. 

' '  No,  not  unless  they  trust  some  one  who  fails 
to  pay  them." 

"Well,  I  thought  you  would  get  sick  er  spek- 
erlatin',  Bob,  and  I'm  glad  you've  done  it  before 
you're  broke,"  said  Tom  Flaunery.  "  I  don't 
want  no  spekerlatin'  for  me." 

"No,  but  you'd  like  a  go  at  horse  racin'  all 
the  same,  Tom  Flannery,"  said  Bob. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't,  nuther,  Bob,  fer  you  talked 
me  out  er  bettin'  and  into  spekerlatin',  and  now 
Herbert  here  has  jest  upset  the  spekerlatiu'  idea, 
so  I'm  out  of  it  all,  Bob." 

"  Good,"  said  Herbert  ;  "  I  am  glad  you  have 
come  to  so  wise  a  decision." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Bob  heartily. 

"So  am  I,"  echoed  Tom,  with  equal  fervor. 

"  But  now,"  said  Bob,  "  what  are  we  goin'  to 
do  with  our  monejr?  It  ain't  earnin'  us  nothiu', 
you  see. ' ' 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  187 

"  I  think  the  best  plan,  Bob,"  said  Herbert 
thoughtfully,  ' '  would  be  for  you  and  Tom  to  put 
your  money  in  the  savings  bank.  There  it  will 
be  safe,  and  will  be  earning  a  little  interest  all  the 
time.  I^et  it  remain  there  until  we  see  a  chance 
to  invest  it  to  good  advantage,  and  in  the  mean 
time  add  as  much  to  it  as  possible." 

"  I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  Bob. 

"  Nurther  did  I,"  added  Tom. 

•'Strikes  me  'tain't  a  bad  scheme,"  continued 
Bob.  ' '  What  do  you  say,  Tom  ?  ' ' 

"  Well,  I  don't  see  no  great  money  in  it,  any- 
how," answered  young  Flannery.  "  But  if  Her- 
bert says  it's  the  best  thing,  why  I  s'pose  'tis." 

"It  is  the  best  plan,  I  am  sure,"  said 
young  Randolph.  "Very  few  speculators  ever 
come  out  rich.  The  men  who  gain  wealth  are 
those  who  invest  their  money  carefully,  and  put 
it  where  it  will  be  safe." 


XXIII. 

the  following  day,  after  the  paper  trade  of 
the  morning  was  over,  Bob  and  Tom,  act- 
ing upon  young  Randolph's  advice,  went  to  the 
Emigrants'  Industrial  Savings  Bank,  and  de- 
posited each  five  dollars.  They  felt  very  proud 
as  they  came  out  into  Chambers  Street  with  their 
bank  books. 

"  It's  a  starter,  any  way,"  said  Bob. 

"  I've  been  thinking  over  what  Herbert  said, 
and  I  guess  between  you'n'  me,  Tom,  he  is  'bout 
right." 

"  That's  what  I  think,  too,  Bob,"  replied  young 
Flannery ;  for,  aside  from  the  matter  of  betting  on 
horse  racing  and  speculating,  he  always  agreed 
with  Bob. 

"  I  think  we  was  in  big  luck,  Tom,  when  we 
run  on  to  Herbert  Randolph." 

"  I  think  so,  too,  Bob  ;  but  why  do  you  think 
so?" 

"  Why  do  I  think  so  !     Well,  ef  that  ain't  a 

queer  question,  Tom   Planner y.     Would  you  a' 

had    that   bank    book    now,    with    your    name, 

Thomas  Flannery,  in  plain  writin'  writ  across  it, 

188 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  189 

I'd  like  to  know,  ef  it  hadn't  been  for  Ver- 
mont?" 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  That's  so,  Bob,  I  wouldn't, 
fer  to  be  honest  with  you,  Bob,  I  think  I'd  put 
it  on  racin'." 

"  So  you  would,  Tom,  ef  you'd  had  it,  but  you 
wouldn't  er  had  it." 

"  Well,  I  never  thought  of  that,  Bob,  but  it's 
so,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  it  is,  and  I  wouldn't  er  had  my 
bank  book  or  these  new  clothes,  either." 

"And  the  big  supper,  Bob ? ' ' 

"  That's  so,  Tom,  and  the  big  supper,  too.  I 
tell  you,  Tom  Flannery,  'twas  great  luck  when 
we  struck  Vermont. ' ' 

"That's  so,  Bob,  so  it  was.  But  say,  Bob, 
don't  you  think  'twas  kinder  lucky  for  Herbert 
when  he  fell  in  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  'bout  that,  Tom.  How  do 
you  figure  it  ?  " 

"Why,  I  figures  it  in  this  way,  Bob;  ef  it 
hadn't  been  fer  you  he  would  be  down  in  that 
old  Gunwagner's  cellar  now." 

"Well,  that's  so,  Tom,  but  he  has  more  than 
paid  me  up,  though." 

"How  did  he  do  it,  Bob?"  asked  Tom,  with 
eagerness. 

"  Ain't  he  helping  me  right  along,  I'd  like  to 
know?" 


190  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"I  hain't  heard  much  about  it,  Bob.  What 
has  he  done  for  you  ?  ' ' 

"Yes,  you  have  heard  about  it,  too,  Torn 
Flannery.  Didn't  I  tell  you  how  he  teaches  me 
every  night  ?  ' ' 

' '  Oh,  yes,  you  told  me  about  that,  Bob,  but 
that  ain't  much — 'taiti't  like  doin'  the  detective 
business,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,  of  course  it  hain't,  but  it's  just  as 
good,  Tom,  and  a  good  deal  more  so,  I  think." 

"  Well,  I  don't  think  no  such  thing,  Bob." 

"Well,  ef  I  do,  that's  all  right,  ain't  it?  I 
tell  you,  Tom,  'tain't  every  feller  that  can  do  the 
teachin'  act." 

"  Nuther  can  every  fellow  do  the  detective 
business.  Ef  you  want  to  know  what  I  think, 
Bob  Hunter,  I'll  tell  you." 

"All  right,  Tom,  sail  in." 

"  Well,  I  think,  ef  I  was  you,  I'd  jest  let  this 
learnin'  business  go,  and  I'd  make  myself  a  de- 
tective. No  feller  could  put  more  style  into  it 
than  what  you  could,  Bob." 

"Tom,  you're  way  off  again.  A  feller  can't 
make  no  kind  of  a  detective,  nor  nothin'  else, 
neither,  unless  he  knows  sornethin'.  I  guess  I 
know,  and  Herbert  says  so,  too." 

"  Well,  I  hain't  got  no  learnin',"  replied  Tom 
somewhat  pompously,  as  if  to  prove  by  himself 
that  Bob's  statement  was  untrue. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  19! 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Bob,  and  stopped  short. 

Tom  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"Then  you  might's  well  say  right  out  that 
I  won't  make  nothin',  Bob  Hunter,"  said  he,  his 
manner  resembling  that  of  one  not  a  little  in- 
dignant. 

"  Well,  I  said  what  I  said,  Tom,  and  if  it  fits 
you,  why  then  am  I  to  blame  ?  " 

Tom  made  no  reply. 

"  It's  no  use  for  you  to  get  mad,  Tom.  Any- 
body would  tell  you  jest  the  same  as  what  I  did. 
Now,  the  thing  for  you  to  do,  Tom,  is  ter  get 
some  learnin'.  You  can  do  it." 

"  Do  you  think  I  could,  Bob?  "  replied  Tom, 
coming  round  to  Bob's  views,  as  he  almost  always 
did. 

"Why,  of  course  you  could,  Tom;  ain't  I 
doiii'  it?" 

"Well,  yes,  I  s' pose  you  are,  Bob,  but  then 
you  can  do  'most  anything.  You  have  showed 
that  already." 

"  That  ain't  so,  Tom.  You  can  do  it  jest  as 
well  as  what  I  can,  ef  you  only  try." 

"  I  never  thought  about  that  before,  Bob," 
said  Tom  thoughtfully.  ' '  Who  could  I  get  to 
learn  me  ?  " 

"You  musn't  say  'learn  you,'  Tom.  Her- 
bert says  that  hain't  right." 

"What  is  it,  then,  Bob?" 


192  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  He  says  I  must  say  '  teach  me,'  because  I've 
got  to  do  the  learning  n^self." 

"Well,  that's  too  much  for  me,  Bob;  I  want 
to  start  in  on  somethin'  easier. ' ' 

At  length  this  discussion  ended  by  Tom  fall- 
ing in  with  Bob's  opinion  as  usual,  and  by  his 
agreeing  to  commence  at  once  attending  an  even- 
ing school. 


XXIV. 

disturbing  elements  that  had  produced 
the  somewhat  dramatic  and  extraordinary 
scenes  of  the  last  week  were  now  apparently 
quiet.  But  were  they  actually  so  ?  This  is  the 
question  that  Herbert  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter 
asked  themselves — a  question  that  caused  them 
much  anxiety. 

Felix  Mortimer,  to  be  sure,  was  in  the  Tombs 
awaiting  his  trial.  But  the  granite  walls  and  the 
great  iron  doors  were  alike  powerless  to  imprison 
his  mind.  He  was  as  free  as  ever  to  think  and 
to  plot.  What  schemes  of  revenge  might  not 
then  be  planned  by  this  boy  whose  hatred  for 
Herbert  Randolph  now  undoubtedly  burned 
more  fiercely  than  ever?  And  Gunwagner,  his 
companion  in  crime,  was  free  to  carry  out  any 
plan  that  might  be  agreed  upon  between  them. 

He  had  given  bonds  to  appear  when  wanted 
by  the  court,  something  that  Felix  Mortimer  was 
unable  to  do.  This  is  why  the  latter  was  still 
locked  up,  while  the  old  fence  was  allowed  his 
temporary  freedom. 

Except  for  the  constant  anxiety  that  Herbert 


194  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

and  Bob  felt  over  this  matter,  everything  went 
smoothly  with  them.  Papers  sold  briskly,  work 
at  the  bank  was  congenial,  and  they  had 
already  become  much  interested  in  each  other. 
The  days  flew  by  quickly,  and  they  looked 
forward  to  the  evenings,  which  they  spent 
together  as  a  time  for  enjoyment  and  im- 
provement. As  often  as  Tom  Flannery  could 
leave  his  evening  school  he  joined  them,  and  he 
was  always  welcome.  No  one  could  help  liking 
him,  he  was  so  simple  and  honest.  How  keenly 
he  enjoyed  an  evening  with  Herbert  and  Bob  in 
their  room,  or  strolling  about  the  great  city,  as 
they  not  infrequently  did  !  Their  slender  means 
would  not  warrant  them  in  attending  the  theater 
often.  Occasionally,  however,  the}7  managed  to 
get  inexpensive  admission  tickets  to  a  really  good 
play.  Bob  Hunter  usually  procured  them  as  a 
reward  for  some  service  he  had  given  during  the 
day,  when  his  paper  trade  did  not  demand  his 
attention.  Many  very  good  free  lectures,  too, 
were  open  to  them,  and  they  seldom  failed  to  im- 
prove this  opportunity.  The  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  building,  with  its  fine 
library  and  gymnasium,  proved  very  attractive 
to  these  three  boys,  whose  happiness,  though  they 
lived  in  the  most  humble  way,  was  doubtless 
equaled  by  few  boys  in  the  great  metropolis, 
however  luxurious  their  home  and  surroundings. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  195 

One  evening  in  particular  young  Randolph 
found  especially  enjoyable.  It  came  about  in 
this  way.  Mr.  Goldwin  had  a  slight  attack  of 
rheumatism  that  caused  him  to  remain  at  home. 
He  sent  a  note  to  his  office  saying  he  should  not 
be  at  the  bank  on  that  day,  and  requesting  Her- 
bert to  come  to  his  house  late  in  the  afternoon, 
and  to  bring  with  him  a  report  of  the  day's  busi- 
ness, and  whatever  mail  it  would  be  desirable  for 
the  banker  to  see. 

The  young  Vermonter  read  the  note  eagerly, 
and  then  immediately  did  the  same  thing  over 
again.  A  peculiar  pleasure  shone  in  his  eyes  as 
he  looked  doubtingly  at  the  little  piece  of  paper. 
And  now  he  saw  a  very  attractive  picture — a  rich 
family  carriage  into  which  a  charmingly  pretty 
girl  was  being  helped  by  a  blushing  boy.  He 
wondered  why  she  had  never  been  at  the  bank 
since  that  time,  and  speculated  dreamily  upon 
his  chance  of  seeing  her  at  her  father's  house. 

Thus  the  day  wore  away,  and  at  the  close  of 
business  hours  young  Randolph  hurried  from  the 
bank,  taking  with  him  what  he  had  been  requested 
to  bring. 

At  City  Hall  Park  he  stopped  and  informed 
Bob  Hunter  of  his  mission,  and  then  went  quickly 
to  his  room  to  put  himself  into  the  most  present- 
able appearance  possible  with  the  somewhat  scanty 
resources  of  his  wardrobe. 


196  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

His  heart  beat  fast  with  expectations  and  fears 
as  he  ascended  the  brown  stone  steps  of  Mr.  Gold- 
win's  house. 

"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Randolph,"  said  the 
banker,  greeting  Herbert  very  cordially.  "  I 
hope  you  have  a  good  report  of  today's  transac- 
tions for  me." 

' '  Yes,  I  think  this  statement  of  the  transac- 
tions will  please  you,"  replied  young  Randolph 
politely. 

"Excellent,"  exclaimed  the  banker  with  a 
smile  of  satisfaction,  as  he  read  the  report.  ' '  You 
have  done  a  splendid  day's  work.  The  market 
must  have  been  unusually  active.  Why,  here  is 
a  transaction  of  twenty  thousand  shares  by  one 
house  alone — great  customers,  Breakwell  &  Co. , 
great  customers,  bold  men — not  afraid  of  any- 
thing." 

"They  certainly  seem  to  be  very  enterprising," 
remarked  Herbert,  feeling  the  necessity  of  saying 
something,  and  that  something  should  concur 
with  his  employer's  views. 

"Most  assuredly  they  are,"  answered  the 
banker,  warming  to  the  subject.  "  Why,  if  we 
.had  more  houses  like  Breakwell  &  Co.,  Wall 
Street  would  see  no  dull  days — no,  sir ;  none  at 
all.  On  the  contrary,  it  would  just  hum  with 
activity. ' ' 

"  I  suppose  they  are  perfectly  good,  Mr.  Gold- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  197 

win,"  remarked  Herbert,  not  knowing  what  bet- 
ter reply  to  make. 

"  Good  ?  Why,  they  are  rated  Ai,  and  are  re- 
ported to  be  very  rich,"  replied  the  banker. 

' '  Did  they  make  their  money  by  speculat- 
ing?" 

"  Yes,  I  understand  so." 

"Are  they  sure  of  keeping  it  if  they  continue 
to  speculate  ?  ' ' 

"Well,  now,  you  are  asking  me  a  difficult 
question.  Nothing,  you  know,  is  certain  in 
Wall  Street. ' ' 

Before  Herbert  had  time  to  reply,  dinner  was 
announced.  The  question  touching  the  re- 
liability of  Breakwell  &  Co.  was  immediately 
dropped,  and  in  its  place  arose  the  unexpected 
problem  whether  or  not  he  should  accept  the 
banker's  invitation  to  dine  with  him  and  his 
family.  He  would  have  quite  as  soon  thought  of 
receiving  an  invitation  to  dinner  from  the  mayor 
himself.  It  was  quite  natural,  therefore,  that 
he  should  offer  some  ridiculous  reason  why  he 
should  be  excused,  when,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he 
would  have  much  rather  served  another  term  of 
imprisonment  at  old  Guuwaguer's  than  lose  this 
opportunity. 

"Come  right  along,"  commanded  Mr.  Gold- 
win,  himself  leading  the  way. 

Herbert  followed  the  banker  into  the  parlor, 


198  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

where  he  was  introduced  to  his  employer's  wife 
and  daughter. 

He  found  himself  blushing  even  more  pro- 
fusely than  when  he  had  handed  Ray  Goldwiu 
into  her  carriage,  at  the  close  of  his  first  day's 
service  for  her  father.  This  .heightened  color, 
too,  seemed  to  be  reflected  upon  her  cheeks,  and 
her  manner  indicated  a  slight  but  not  unnatural 
embarrassment. 

Herbert  had  thought  that  the  dinner  given  by 
Bob  Hunter  was  about  as  good  as  could  well  be 
served,  but  this  one  proved  in  every  respect 
much  the  better  ;  and  notwithstanding  his  ner- 
vousness and  lack  of  ease,  under  circumstances 
so  unfamiliar,  he  enjoyed  the  meal  greatly. 

While  Herbert  Randolph  could  laugh  at  the 
drollery  and  peculiar  street  language  of  Bob 
Hunter  and  Tom  Flannery,  he  nevertheless 
found  a  higher  degree  of  pleasure  in  the  conver- 
sation of  this  intelligent  and  refined  family. 

"  Papa  told  us  about  your  imprisonment,  Mr. 
Randolph,"  said  Ray,  looking  wonderfully  pretty, 
as  Herbert  thought.  ' '  It  must  have  been  dread- 
ful." 

"It  was  an  unpleasant  experience,"  replied 
young  Randolph  lightly  ;  ' '  but  I  came  out  all 
right." 

"Ah,  that  reminds  me,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin, 
"  that  one  of  the  letters  you  brought  me  was 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  199 

from  my  attorney.  In  it  he  expressed  the  opin- 
ion that  you  can  recover  damages  from  the  old 
fence  for  false  imprisonment.  I  would  there- 
fore advise  you  to  place  the  matter  in  his  hands 
at  once,  and  have  him  push  it." 

"You  mean  put  it  into  the  hands  of  your 
lawyer  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

' '  I  appreciate  very  highly  your  interest  in  my 
behalf,  Mr.  Goldwiu,  and  I  will  do  as  you  say," 
replied  Herbert. 

"Wouldn't  it  be  splendid  if  you  could  get 
damages  from  that  dreadful  old  man  ?  "  said  Ray, 
with  enthusiasm. 

Thus  the  conversation  ran  on,  and  before  the 
dinner  had  been  finished,  Herbert  felt  himself 
quite  well  acquainted  with  both  Mrs.  Gold  win 
and  Ray.  He  had  tried  to  convince  himself  that 
he  did  not  care  for  girls,  and  he  thought  he  had 
succeeded  well  in  doing  so.  But  for  some  inex- 
plicable reason,  his  imaginary  objections  to  the 
sex  in  general  did  not  stand  long  against  Ray 
Gold  win  in  particular. 

Her  bright  blue  eyes,  brimful  of  spirit  and 
laughter,  seemed  to  detect  his  aversion,  and  she 
aimed,  he  thought,  to  show  him  that  he  had  de- 
ceived himself. 

After  the  meal  had  been  finished  all  repaired  to 
the  library,  where,  after  a  half  hour  of  social 


200  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

converse,  Herbert  wrote  several  letters  for  Mr. 
Goldwin  at  his  dictation.  Ray  sat  opposite  him 
with  the  purpose  of  reading,  but  as  a  matter  of 
fact  she  did  not  progress  very  fast  with  the 
story. 

' '  Would  you  be  willing  to  write  in  my  auto- 
graph album,  Mr.  Randolph?"  said  she,  some- 
what timidly,  when  he  had  finished  her  father's 
letters. 

"Yes,  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,"  he  an- 
swered. 

' '  I  shall  be  proud  of  such  pretty  writing, ' '  re- 
turned Ray,  handing  him  the  book. 

"  You  embarrass  me,"  said  he,  blushing. 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  laughed  Ray,  enjoying 
young  Randolph's  modesty. 

"Well,  I  am  not  accustomed  to  compliments, 
especially  from — er " 

"  From  young  girls,"  suggested  Mrs.  Gold- 
win,  smiling. 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Herbert ;  I  was  hesi- 
tating whether  to  say  'girls '  or  '  young  ladies.'  " 

"  Oh,  say  girls,  by  all  means,"  replied  Mrs. 
Goldwin.  "We  don't  want  Ray  to  become  a 
a  young  lady  too  soon. ' ' 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  responded  our  hero,  half 
seriously. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Randolph,"  said  Ray,  shaking  her 
dainty  finger  at  him,  "  I  believe  I  would  not 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  2OI 

have  asked  you  to  write  in  my  album  if  I  had 
supposed  you  would  say  that." 

"  Well,  it  is  not  too  late  yet,  for  you  see  I  have 
not  touched  the  book  with  the  pen,"  laughed 
Herbert. 

"  Oh,  but  I  would  not  want  to  disappoint  you. 
You  know  you  said  it  would  give  you  pleasure  to 
do  so." 

"So  it  would,  but  I  would  rather  sacrifice  this 
pleasure  than  feel  that  you  would  be  sorry  you 
had  given  me  the  invitation." 

Without  further  parley  Herbert  wrote  in  the 
album — wrote  so  prettily  that  he  was  roundly 
complimented  by  all. 

Mrs.  Gold  win  and  Ray  were  now  summoned 
into  the  drawing  room  to  receive  a  caller,  and 
presently  young  Randolph  took  his  leave,  and 
started  for  his  room  with  a  very  light  and  happy 
heart. 


XXV. 

"DOB  HUNTER  was  too  much  surprised  by 
the  fact  that  Herbert  was  going  to  Mr. 
Gold  win's  house  to  tell  him  of  his  own  anxiety 
about  Tom  Flannery.  The  latter  had  not,  as 
Bob  learned,  been  seen  for  two  days  at  his  ac- 
customed place.  That  he  should  be  away  one 
day  was  not  particularly  strange,  for  he  not  in- 
frequently got  odd  jobs  to  do  that  took  him  to 
another  part  of  the  city,  or  possibly  to  some  of 
the  near  by  suburbs.  Two  days'  absence,  how- 
ever, was  so  unusual  for  him  that  Bob  Hunter 
became  anxious,  fearing  that  possibly  the  ven- 
geance of  old  Gunwagner  and  his  companion  in 
crime  had  fallen  upon  poor,  unsuspecting  Tom. 
This  thought  having  suggested  itself  to  him,  his 
previous  anxiety  speedily  turned  to  a  feeling  of 
alarm. 

He  therefore  left  his  place  of  business  as  early 
as  possible,  and  after  a  hurried  supper  went 
quickly  to  Tom  Flanuery's  home,  which  was  in 
a  large  office  building  on  Broadway,  very  near 
Bowling  Green.  The  latter' s  mother  was  jani- 
tress  of  the  building.  Her  duties  were  to  keep 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  203 

it  clean,  and  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the 
owner.  For  these  services  she  received  a  trifling 
money  reward,  and  was  allowed  to  occupy  two 
small  rooms  at  the  top  of  the  building.  Here  Mrs. 
Flannery  and  Tom  made  their  home,  which, 
though  humble,  was  very  neat. 

Bob  knocked  softly  at  the  door,  out  of  breath 
from  climbing  so  many  flights  of  stairs,  and  with 
sore  misgivings  for  the  safety  of  his  young  com- 
panion. The  door  was  opened  presently  by  a 
woman  of  middle  age,  who,  as  Bob  saw  at  a  glance 
from  her  extraordinary  resemblance  to  Tom,  was 
the  newsboy's  mother.  He  had  never  seen  her 
before,  but  the  honest,  trustful  look  so  character- 
istic of  his  young  friend  shone  prominently  in 
Mrs.  Flannery 's  face. 

"  They  have  got  him,  poor  Tom,"  said  Bob  to 
himself  with  beating  heart,  as  he  saw  Mrs.  Flan- 
nery's  grief. 

"  Are  you  not  Master  Bob  Hunter?  "  said  the 
woman,  speaking  first — after  an  awkward  pause  ; 
for  the  visitor,  who  had  been  so  bold  a  detective, 
was  now  so  distressed  that  he  knew  not  what  to 
say. 

"Yes,  I  am  Bob  Hunter,"  was  the  soft  reply. 

"  And  you  are  come  to  see  my  boy — my  poor 
Tom?"  said  the  woman,  pressing  Bob's  hand 
warmly,  and  struggling  vainly  to  keep  back  the 
tears. 


204  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Is  he  here?"  asked  Bob,  dumbfounded  by 
the  contradictory  state  of  things  ;  for  it  was  ap- 
parent from  the  woman's  question  that  Tom  was 
at  home,  and,  he  being  at  home,  why  such  grief? 

"I'm  so  glad  you  came  to  see  him,  for  he 
thought  so  much  of  you,  Master  Bob,"  said  Mrs. 
Flannery,  now  giving  way  entirely  to  her  feel- 
ings. 

' '  I  would  have  come  before  if  I  had  known ' 

"I  know  you  wrould,  I  know  you  would," 
interrupted  the  woman  between  sobs,  "and  he 
asked  so  man}'  times  for  you,  and  now  to  think 
that  you  are  here  and  he  won't  know  )Tou.  Oh, 
my  poor  Tom  ! ' ' 

"  I  don't  blame  you  for  being  proud,  Bob.  I 
wish  I  had  such  a  case  too,  but  then  I  couldn't 
handle  it  not  the  way  you  could,  Bob.  None  of 
the  fellers  could,  not  one  of  'em,  Bob,  for  you  do 
everything  in  such  a  grand  way,  you  know." 

These  words,  so  familiar  yet  so  ominously 
strange,  fell  upon  Bob  Hunter  like  a  messenger 
of  death. 

"Oh,  what  is  it,  Mrs.  Planner)'?  What  has 
happened  to  Tom?  "  cried  he,  pale  with  fright. 

"  It's  his  head,  Master  Bob — gone  since  morn- 
ing— rambling  on  just  like  this — detectives,  and 
I  don't  know  what  all." 

"Have  you  had  a  doctor?"  asked  Bob,  his 
mind  turning  quickly  to  practical  measures. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  205 

'  Yes,  and  he  says  it's  pneumonia,  and  a  very 
bad  case,"  answered  the  mother,  with  almost  a 
hopeless  expression. 

Bob  learned  that  Tom  came  home  two  days  be- 
fore thoroughly  wet  from  a  cold  northeast  rain  ; 
that  he  had  a  chill  soon  after  going  to  bed  ;  that 
he  grew  rapidly  worse  throughout  the  night,  and 
that  in  the  morning  he  had  a  high  fever.  Mrs. 
Flaunery  called  in  a  doctor,  who,  after  a  careful 
examination,  pronounced  the  case  pneumonia. 
He  left  medicine  which  seemed  to  afford  tempo- 
rary relief.  In  the  night,  however,  Tom  grew 
worse,  and  during  the  following  forenoon  became 
delirious. 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Tom?  "  said  Bob  feel- 
ingly, as  he  stood  by  the  bedside,  and  held  the 
sufferer's  hand  in  his  own. 

"All  the  evening  papers — Sun,  Mail  and  Ex- 
press, Telegram — big  accident — tremendous  loss 
of  life  !  Which  will  you  have,  sir?  " 

And  this  was  Tom's  wild  reply,  poor  boy. 
Now  that  his  companion,  whom  he  wanted  to  see 
so  much,  and  for  whom  he  had  such  admiration, 
had  at  last  come  to  him,  the  sick  boy  did  not 
know  him  ;  but  supposing  he  had  a  customer  for 
his  papers,  he  rattled  on  in  truly  newsboy  fashion. 
Bob  tried  again  and  again  to  rouse  his  mind  by 
referring  to  Herbert  Randolph,  and  to  scenes 
familiar  and  interesting,  but  his  efforts  were  uu- 


2o6  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

successful.  At  length  his  stout  young  heart 
gave  way,  and  with  an  expression  of  the  keenest 
grief  he  dropped  into  a  chair  beside  the  bed, 
burying  his  face  in  the  pure  white  spread  that 
covered  his  young  companion,  and  wept  tears  of 
sincere  sorrow. 

Presently  he  withdrew  from  the  sick  room,  and 
after  a  brief  discussion  with  Mrs.  Flannery  hur- 
ried away  to  the  doctor  whom  she  had  previously 
called  in  to  see  Tom.  The  physician  promised 
to  visit  the  sick  boy  again  within  an  hour.  Hav- 
ing this  assurance  from  the  doctor,  Bob  then 
turned  his  steps  towards  his  own  room  to  acquaint 
Herbert  Randolph  with  Tom's  illness.  But  to 
Bob's  surprise  he  found  on  arriving  there  that  the 
young  Vermonter  had  not  yet  reached  home. 

"  'Twas  nine  o'clock  when  I  passed  the  Tribune 
building,"  said  Bob  to  himself  rather  anxiously, 
"  and  he  hain't  come  yet.  I  hope  nothing's  gone 
bad  with  him,  though,  for  we've  got  trouble 
enough  on  our  hands  already,  with  Tom  sick, 
and  goin'  to  die,  I'm  afraid.  I  wish  I  could  do 
something  for  him ;  he  would  do  anything  in  the 
world  for  me,  Tom  would. ' ' 

Bob's  fears  regarding  Herbert  proved  ground- 
less, for  in  a  little  time  the  latter  joined  him  with 
a  light  heart,  made  happy  by  the  very  kind  recep- 
tion given  him  at  Mr.  Goldwin's. 

On  his  way  home  his  mind  was  filled  with  the 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  207 

vision  of  a  sweet  young  face,  which  to  him  was 
an  inspiration.  And  as  he  hurried  along  the 
avenue,  thinking  faster  and  faster,  what  charm- 
ing pictures  his  imagination  brought  him — pic- 
tures that  for  him  possessed  a  strange  and  peculiar 
attraction.  But  these  beautiful  creations  of  his 
mind  were  quickly  lost  to  him  when  he  saw  the 
troubled  look  on  young  Bob  Hunter's  face. 

"  Why,  Bob,"  said  he,  "what  makes  you  look 
so  wretched  ?  What  has  happened  ?  ' ' 

The  latter  quickly  related  the  story  of  Tom's 
sickness,  and  stated  his  own  fears. 

"  I  cannot  realize  it,  Bob,"  said  Herbert,  deeply 
touched.  ' '  Poor  Tom  !  I^et  us  go  at  once  and 
do  whatever  we  can  for  him." 

"  That's  right,  Herbert;  that's  what  I  think 
we  ought  to  do,  and  I  shouldn't  come  home  at  all 
only  I  knew  you  would  not  know  what  had  be- 
come of  me,"  replied  Bob,  as  they  put  on  their 
overcoats  and  started  for  Mrs.  Flannery's  humble 
home. 


XXVI. 

A  T  the  end  of  two  weeks  Tom  was  again  up 
and  dressed.  His  struggle  with  the  pneu- 
monia had  been  a  frightful  one.  It  was  turned 
in  his  favor  largely  by  the  aid  of  the  best  medical 
skill,  and  the  untiring  care  given  him  by  his 
mother  and  his  two  faithful  friends,  Herbert  and 
Bob.  The  boys  took  turns  in  watching  with  him 
at  night,  while  Mrs.  Flannery  slept,  that  she 
might  renew  her  strength  for  the  day  watch. 

But  the  disease,  as  is  not  infrequently  the  case, 
left  Tom  with  a  hard,  dry  cough,  which  threatened 
serious  results.  His  lungs  were  weak,  and  his 
body  was  much  emaciated.  He  was  not  the  Tom 
Flannery  of  old,  the  Tom  so  full  of  boyish  spirits 
and  desire  to  push  his  paper  trade.  This  change 
in  their  young  companion  caused  Herbert  and 
Bob  keen  anxiety.  Thej^  had  watched  beside  his 
bed  through  delirium  and  helplessness,  when 
there  seemed  no  hope  of  his  recovery.  How  glad 
their  young  hearts  were  when  be  began  to  rally, 
and  they  could  see  him  in  imagination  back  with 
them  again  in  their  old  pleasures  and  pastimes  ! 
His  failure,  therefore,  to  throw  off  the  racking 
208 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  209 

cough  and  regain  his  strength  was  a  sore  disap- 
pointment to  them  ;  but  this  was  not  their  only 
source  of  apprehension. 

How  full  these  two  weeks  had  been  of  bitter 
trouble — trouble  that  drew  deeply  upon  their 
sympathy  ;  that  destroyed  splendid  prospects  and 
forced  one  of  them  from  a  position  of  independ- 
ence to  one  little  better  than  beggary. 

Disturbing  elements  had  been  gathering  for 
days  in  Wall  Street,  which  to  a  few  old  wise 
heads  seemed  ominous.  They  predicted  danger, 
but  their -warnings  were  laughed  at  by  the  less 
cautious  speculators,  who  operated  with  a  reck- 
less daring.  At  length,  however,  the  storm 
struck  almost  without  a  moment's  notice.  Wild 
reports  filled  the  air,  and  men,  strong,  bold  men, 
crushed  by  the  tremendous  force  of  the  panic, 
fell  prostrate  here  and  there,  and  everywhere. 
Terror  spread  to  all,  and  painted  its  sickly  hue 
upon  their  faces.  When  the  storm  had  subsided 
the  street  was  full  of  wrecks.  Among  them  was 
the  daring  firm  of  Breakwell  &  Co.,  who  had 
failed  for  a  million  and  a  quarter  of  dollars. 

Young  Randolph  was  stunned  at  the  exhibition 
he  witnessed  on  that  fatal  day.  House  after 
house  with  whom  his  firm  had  done  business,  and 
who  were  supposed  to  be  almost  beyond  the  pos- 
sibility of  failure,  had  closed  their  doors.  Break- 
well  &  Co.  were  among  the  last  to  go  under. 


210  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

They  had  been  kept  up  by  the  splendid  loyalty 
of  Richard  Goldwin,  who  put  his  bank  account 
at  their  command,  relying  upon  their  assurance 
that  they  were  all  right,  and  would  come  out  of 
the  storm  stronger  than  ever,  if  they  could  only 
receive  temporary  help.  Mr.  Goldwiu,  anxious 
to  save  them,  stood  heroically  by  them,  and  went 
down  with  them — a  victim  of  noble  generosity, 
of  misplaced  confidence.  Yes,  he  had  failed — 
Richard  Goldwin,  the  banker  and  broker,  yester- 
day a  millionaire,  today  perhaps  a  pauper. 

Herbert  Randolph  could  not  at  first  realize  the 
awful  fact,  but  the  pain  he  saw  in  Mr.  Goldwin 's 
face  appealed  so  strongly  to  his  sympathy  that 
the  tears  forced  themselves  from  his  eyes,  try 
however  bravely  he  would  to  restrain  them.  The 
doors  were  closed,  and  all  business  with  the  house 
of  Richard  Goldwin  was  at  an  end. 

Mr.  Goldwiu  bore  the  misfortune  like  a  hero. 
His  face  was  white  and  firm  as  marble.  Certain 
lines,  however,  told  his  distress,  but  never  a 
word  of  complaint  at  the  miserable  treachery  of 
Breakwell  &  Co.  escaped  his  lips. 

Herbert  could  not  help  thinking  how  severe 
the  shock  would  be  to  Mrs.  Goldwin  and  Ray, 
who  could  not  bridle  their  emotions  with  an  iron 
will  like  that  of  the  ruined  banker.  The  latter 
was  accustomed,  in  his  long  career  in  Wall  Street, 
to  seeing  others  meet  the  disaster  that  had  now 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  211 

overtaken  him  ;  but  his  wife  and  daughter — ah, 
how  little  the}'  were  prepared  for  such  a  shock. 

The  panic  that  ruined  so  many  men  added 
quite  largely  to  the  fortunes  of  young  Bob 
Hunter.  He  had  never  before  had  such  a  trade. 
Papers  sold  beyond  all  imagination,  and  at  double 
their  usual  price.  The  result  was  a  profit  of 
seven  dollars  and  forty  seven  cents  for  his  day's 
work.  He  felt  richer  than  ever  before  in  his  life, 
and  so  happy  that  he  could  hardly  wait  till  the 
usual  time  for  Herbert  to  join  him,  he  wanted  so 
much  to  make  known  his  grand  success.  But 
when  young  Randolph  came  to  him  with  the 
sad  story  of  that  day  in  Wall  Street,  his  happi- 
ness gave  place  to  a  feeling  of  unusual  sadness, 
and  the  sadness  deepened  on  learning  that  his 
friend  was  now  out  of  a  position. 

"But  you  can  get  another  place,  Herbert," 
said  he,  reassuringly  ;  ' '  perhaps  a  better  one 
than  you  have  lost." 

"  I  hope  so,"  was  all  the  reply  the  young  bank 
clerk  made,  but  there  was  a  world  of  expression 
in  the  way  he  said  it.  His  face,  too,  looked  the 
disappointment  and  sorrow  he  felt,  and  Bob 
rightly  divined  that  the  sorrow  was  more  for  Mr. 
Goldwin  and  his  family  than  for  himself. 

It  is  safe  to  presume  that  Herbert  thought 
long  and  regretfully  of  the  probability  of  Mr. 
Goldwin  being  reduced  to  a  state  of  poverty — of 


212  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

his  being  turned  out  of  his  luxurious  home — of 
Ray,  his  daughter,  being  obliged  to  work  for  her 
living — of  her  young,  sweet  life  being  embittered 
by  want  and  miserable  surroundings,  so  out  of 
keeping  with  her  beauty  and  genial,  sunny 
nature.  And  if  he  did  think  in  this  wise,  what 
resolutions  he  formed  of  relieving  her  of  such  a 
life,  and  of  restoring  her  to  her  proper  place  \ve 
can  only  imagine,  for  on  this  matter  he  said  never 
a  word,  not  even  to  Bob  Hunter. 

On  the  following  morning,  Bob  Hunter  handed 
Herbert  a  small  roll  of  bills. 

' '  What  is  this  for  ?  "  said  the  latter. 

"  It's  for  you,"  replied  Bob.  "  There's  only 
eight  dollars  in  it,  but  you'll  perhaps  need  it, 
and  then  you'll  feel  better  with  it  in  your  pocket 
while  looking  for  work." 

"  But  I  cannot  accept  your  money,  Bob," 
protested  Herbert,  with  feelings  of  deep  gratitude. 

"Yes,  you  must,  for  you  are  out  in  the  cold, 
and  my  business  is  good  ;  and  then,  you  know,  I 
made  'most  all  of  it  yesterday  out  of  the  failures 
in  Wall  Street — out  of  your  firm's  failure  as 
much  as  any,  probably,  and  that  meant  your 
failure  to  keep  your  place  ;  so  in  a  way  I  kinder 
made  it  out  of  you,  and  now  I  want  you  to  have 
it  again." 

Herbert's  eyes  were  now  moist. 

"  Bob,  you  are  very  good  and  generous,"  said 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  213 

he,  rather  huskily  ;  "  but  you  are  not  logical.  I 
have  no  claim  on  your  money,  neither  has  any- 
one. You  made  it  in  legitimate  trade,  and  should 
not  feel  that  it  does  not  belong  to  you." 

"  Well,  I  know  I  did  ;  but  I  feel  in  a  kind  of 
way  that  it  was  made  off  of  the  misfortunes  of 
others,  you  see." 

' '  But  the  misfortunes  were  not  caused  by 
you.  They  had  occurred,  and  people  wanted  to 
know  about  them,  and  were  willing  and  glad  to 
pay  for  their  information.  This  gave  you 
an  opportunity  to  make  some  money,  and  you 
made  it." 

"  Well,  of  course  you  will  beat  me  at  arguing, 
Herbert,  for  you  always  do  ;  but  all  the  same  I 
wish  you  would  take  the  money,  for  I  think  you 
will  need  it." 

"  If  I  do  need  any  money,  when  mine  is  gone, 
I  will  then  borrow  this  of  you,  but  until  then  you 
must  keep  it." 

After  this  discussion,  and  after  a  very  frugal 
breakfast,  Herbert  once  more  joined  the  ranks  of 
the  vast  arm y  who  go  from  place  to  place,  hungry 
and  thinly  clothed  many  times,  in  search  of  em- 
ployment— anything  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the 
door. 


XXVII. 

T  T  was  now  midwinter.  The  streets  were  filled 
•*•  with  snow  and  ice,  and  the  cold,  frost  laden 
air  was  chilling  alike  to  the  body  and  spirits  of 
one  in  the  unfortunate  position  in  which  young 
Randolph  suddenly  found  himself. 

If  one  has  never  been  out  of  a  position  in  a 
great  city  at  this  season  of  the  year,  he  can  have 
but  little  conception  of  the  almost  utterly  hope- 
less prospects  before  him.  After  the  holiday 
trade  is  over,  a  vast  number  of  clerks  are  dis- 
charged from  our  stores,  and  thousands  in  the 
manufacturing  line  are  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment. These  are  added  to  the  very  large  num- 
ber that  at  all  seasons  of  the  year  are  hunting 
for  work.  Thousands,  too,  from  the  country, 
thinking  to  escape  the  dreary  frost  bound  months 
of  rural  life,  flock  to  the  city  and  join  the  enor- 
mous army  of  the  unemployed.  All  want  work, 
and  there  is  little  or  no  work  to  be  had.  It  is 
the  season  of  the  year  when  few  changes  are 
made  by  employers  other  than  to  dispense  with 
the  services  of  those  not  actually  needed.  To  be 
sure,  a  few  employees  die,  and  leave  vacancies  to 
214 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  215 

be  filled.  Others  prove  unfaithful,  and  are  dis- 
charged. A  new  business,  too,  is  started  here  and 
there,  but  all  the  available  positions  combined  are 
as  nothing  when  compared  to  the  tremendous 
demand  for  them  by  the  thousands  of  appli- 
cants. 

When  Herbert  Randolph  came  to  New  York 
in  the  fall,  he  was  fortunate  in  arriving  at  the 
time  when  employers  usually  carry  a  larger  force 
of  help  than  at  any  other  season  of  the  year. 
There  was  consequently  less  demand  for  positions, 
and  a  greater  demand  for  help.  Thus  he  had  a 
possible  chance  of  securing  employment,  and  he 
happened  to  be  fortunate  enough  to  do  so.  I 
say  he  had  a  possible  chance,  for  surely  he  had  no 
more  than  that  even  at  the  most  favorable  season 
of  the  year.  He  was  extremely  fortunate,  com- 
ing from  the  country  as  he  did,  to  find  employ- 
ment at  all. 

In  view  of  these  facts  it  will  not  be  surprising 
that  young  Randolph,  brave  boy  as  he  was,  looked 
upon  the  dreary  prospect  before  him  with  a  heavy 
heart. 

Bob  Hunter  realized  fully  the  gravity  of  his 
friend's  situation,  and  this  is  why  he  urged  the 
money  upon  him,  wishing  to  keep  up  his  courage, 
and  delicately  refraining  from  touching  upon  the 
dark  outlook  ahead. 

I  wish  I  had  the  space  to  picture  carefully  all 


2l6  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

the  rebuffs,  the  cold  treatment,  and  the  dis- 
couragement that  met  our  young  hero  on  his 
daily  wanderings,  seeking  for  some  honest  labor 
— anything  that  would  furnish  him  with  the 
means  to  buy  bread.  But  as  I  should  not  feel 
justified  in  extending  this  story  to  such  a  length, 
I  must  content  myself  with  a  few  glimpses  that 
will  show  the  heroic  struggle  he  made  to  sustain 
himself  during  these  dark,  chilly,  and  cheerless 
days  of  winter. 

"It's  pretty  tough,  ain't  it,  Herbert  ?"  said 
Bob,  one  night  when  they  were  alone  together  in 
their  room.  He  sought  to  lift  the  burden  from  his 
friend's  mind  by  drawing  him  into  conversation. 

' '  Yes, ' '  answered  Herbert  mechanically. 

This  reply,  so  short,  and  given  with  so  little 
expression,  gave  Bob  a  feeling  of  uneasiness. 

"I  hope  you  ain't  getting  discouraged,"  he 
ventured  next. 

"No,  nothing  will  discourage  me  now,"  re- 
plied young  Randolph  doggedly. 

"  But  you  hain't  got  no  encouragement  yet?" 

"  No,  none  whatever,"  was  the  gloomy  answer. 

"And  you've  been  trying  for  three  weeks  to 
strike  something?  " 

"Yes;  it's  nearer  four  weeks,  and  my  shoes 
are  worn  out  with  walking. ' ' 

"  But  you  know  I  have  some  money  for  you, 
and  you  better  take  it  and  buy  you  a  new  pair." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  217 

' '  No,  Bob,  I  will  never  take  that  except  as  a 
last  resort.  While  I  have  my  health  I  shall  not 
allow  myself  to  accept  charity.  I  am  not  afraid 
to  do  any  sort  of  work,  and  sooner  or  later  I  am 
confident  that  I  shall  find  employment.  This 
morning  I  earned  seventy  five  cents  shoveling 
snow  from  the  stoops  of  houses.  This  sort  of 
employment,  however,  is  very  uncertain,  as  so 
little  snow  falls  here  ;  but  there  are  other  odd 
jobs  to  be  done,  and  I  shall  try  and  get  my  share 
of  them." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  was  doing  that  kind  of 
work,  Herbert,"  said  Bob,  with  a  deep  drawn 
sigh.  "  It  ain't  right  for  a  boy  with  your  learniu' 
to  come  down  to  that. ' ' 

"  It's  right  for  me  to  do  anything  temporarily 
to  earn  an  honest  penny.  One  who  is  above 
work  cannot  hope  to  succeed.  I  am  here,  and  I 
am  going  to  stay,  and  the  best  I  can  do  is  to  do 
always  the  best  I  can,  and  the  best  I  can  do  just 
at  present  is  to  be  a  porter,  an  errand  boy,  a  boy 
of  all  work — ready  for  anything,  and  willing  to 
do  anything,  always  keeping  my  eyes  open  for  a 
chance  to  go  a  step  higher. 

' '  The  trouble  with  me  now,  Bob,  is  that  I 
started  in  too  elegantly  at  first.  I  commenced  in 
a  broker's  office,  when  I  should  have  started  at 
the  bottom,  in  order  to  know  anything  about  the 
first  round  of  the  ladder.  I'm  at  the  bottom  now, 


2l8  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

and  it  looks  as  if  I  would  have  to  remain  there 
long  enough  to  learn  a  good  deal  about  that  posi- 
tion." 

"I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way,  Herbert,  for  I 
thought  you  was  getting  discouraged,"  replied 
Bob,  his  face  brightening  up. 

"  I  did  feel  utterly  discouraged  for  the  first 
two  or  three  weeks  ;  but,  you  know,  Bob,  one 
can  get  used  to  anything,  and  I  have  become 
sufficiently  accustomed  to  this  miserable  kind  of 
work,  and  to  the  beggarly  pennies  I  earn  from 
time  to  time,  so  that  it  is  less  cutting  to  me  than 
at  first.  I  try  to  content  myself  with  the  belief 
that  it  will  be  better  by  and  by,  though  I  get 
heartsick  sometimes.  It  seems  almost  useless 
to  try  farther  for  work  in  any  \vell  established 
business. ' ' 

The  foregoing  will  give  a  very  slight  idea  of 
the  struggle  young  Randolph  made  to  keep  his 
head  above  water,  and  it  presents  a  pretty  true 
picture  of  the  difficulties  a  boy  will  ordinarily 
encounter  in  attempting  to  make  his  way  unaided 
in  a  great  city  like  New  York.  Of  course  diffi- 
culties vary  in  character  and  severity  ;  but  it 
would  not  be  safe  for  the  average  boy  to  expect 
to  find  less  than  those  that  surrounded  our  hero. 
Some  would  be  more  fortunate,  while  others 
would  be  less  favored.  Herbert  Randolph  was 
especially  fortunate  in  meeting  Bob  Hunter, 


THK  BOY  BROKER.  219 

whose  friendship  proved  as  true  as  steel.  What 
would  have  become  of  him  while  in  the  hands  of 
old  Guuwagner,  but  for  Bob's  effort  to  rescue 
him?  And,  again,  how  could  he  have  fought 
away  despondency  during  his  enforced  idleness 
had  he  lived  by  himself  in  a  cold  and  cheerless 
room  ?  Brave  and  manly  as  he  was,  he  owed 
much  to  his  warm  hearted  companion,  whose 
presence  and  sympathy  revived  his  drooping  and 
almost  crushed  spirits. 

As  the  days  passed  by,  Herbert  Randolph 
turned  his  attention  to  the  most  practical  pur- 
poses. He  almost  entirely  gave  up  looking  for  a 
steady  situation,  and  devoted  his  time  to  doing 
whatever  odd  jobs  he  could  hit  upon  that  would 
bring  him  in  a  little  money.  Among  the  many 
kinds  of  humble  employment  to  which  he  bent 
his  energies  was  that  of  working  the  hoist.  In 
New  York  the  tall  warehouses — those  not  sup- 
plied with  an  elevator — have  a  windlass  at  the 
top,  to  which  is  attached  a  heavy  rope,  that 
passes  down  through  a  wide  opening  to  the 
ground  floor.  This  rope,  with  a  large  iron  hook 
at  the  end,  is  attached  to  heavy  cases,  or  what- 
ever is  to  be  taken  to  any  of  the  upper  lofts. 
Another  rope,  passing  over  a  big  wheel,  when 
pulled  turns  the  windlass.  This  winds  the  main 
rope  around  it,  and  thus  draws  it  up,  taking 
with  it  its  load,  whatever  that  may  be.  Perhaps 


220  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

no  harder  or  less  poetic  work  to  an  educated  boy 
could  be  found  than  this  ;  yet  Herbert  Randolph 
did  not  hesitate  to  throw  off  his  coat,  and  work 
with  an  aching  back  and  smarting  hands  as  few 
porters  would  do. 

He  worked  faithfully  and  honestly,  with  no 
hope  of  reward  other  than  the  money  he  would 
earn  by  his  labor.  And  yet  this  very  employ- 
ment— this  humble  porter  work — opened  up  to 
him  an  opportunity  of  which  he  had  never 
dreamed — suggested  to  him  an  idea  he  never 
before  thought  of. 

It  came  about  in  this  wa)*.  One  day,  after  he 
had  toiled  for  two  hours  or  so  on  the  hoist,  and 
had  finished  his  work,  he  went  up  to  the  cashier 
to  get  his  money,  as  he  had  done  many  times  be- 
fore. A  man  with  a  satchel  strapped  to  his 
shoulder  was  just  ahead  of  him. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Smith,"  said  the  man 
with  the  satchel,  addressing  the  cashier. 

"Good  morning,"  responded  the  latter.  "I 
am  glad  you  came  today,  Mr.  Woodman,  for  we 
have  an  unusually  large  supply  of  stamps  on 
hand." 

"-The  market  is  very  much  overstocked  at 
present,"  replied  Woodman,  unslingiug  his 
satchel,  and  resting  it  on  the  desk.  "  I  bought 
a  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  stamps  yesterday 
from  one  party  at  five  per  cent  off." 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  221 

"  Five  per  cent,"  repeated  the  cashier,  arching 
his  eyebrows. 

' '  Yes,  five  per  cent. ' ' 

' '  And  you  expect  to  buy  from  us  at  that 
rate?" 

"  I  wish  I  could  pay  you  more,  but  my  money 
is  all  tied  up  now — the  market  is  glutted,  fairly 
glutted." 

' '  I  should  think  it  would  be,  when  you  buy 
them  in  thousand  dollar  lots. ' ' 

"  Well,  that  does  seem  like  a  large  amount  of 
stamps,  but  I  know  of  one  lot — a  ten  thousand 
dollar  lot — that  I  could  buy  within  an  hour,  if  I 
had  the  money  to  put  into  them." 

"  You  could  never  get  rid  of  so  many,  Wood- 
man," said  the  cashier,  surprised  at  the  broker's 
statement. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  could  work  them  off  sooner  or 
later,  and  would  get  par  for  most  of  them  too." 

' '  How  do  you  do  it  ?  " 

' '  I  put  them  up  in  small  lots  of  fifty  cents  and 
a  dollar,  and  upwards,  and  sell  them  to  my  cus- 
tomers. Of  course,  when  I  buy  big  lots  I  do  a 
little  wholesaling,  but  I  put  away  all  I  cannot  sell 
at  the  time." 

' '  They  are  sure  to  go  sooner  or  later,  I  sup- 
pose," said  the  cashier. 

"Oh,  yes,  sure  to  sell.  During  the  summer 
months  very  few  stamps  come  into  the  market. 


222  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

' '  And  this  gives  you  an  opportunity  to  work 
off  your  surplus  stock  ?  ' ' 

"Yes." 

' '  I  presume  you  sell  as  a  rule  to  stores  and 
business  offices  ?  ' ' 

' '  Yes  ;  I  have  a  regular  line  of  customers  who 
buy  all  of  their  stamps  from  me — customers  that 
I  worked  up  myself." 

' '  And  they  prefer  buying  of  you  to  going  to 
the  post  office  for  their  supply  ?  ' ' 

"Certainly;  for  I  give  them  just  as  good 
stamps,  and  by  buying  of  me  they  save  them- 
selves the  trouble  of  going  to  the  post  office  for 
them." 

Herbert  Randolph  was  waiting  for  his  money, 
and  overheard  this  conversation  between  the 
cashier  and  the  stamp  broker.  He  made  no 
effort  to  hear  it,  for  it  did  not  relate  to  him. 
They  spoke  so  loud,  however,  that  he  caught 
every  word  distinctly,  and  before  they  had  finished 
talking  the  idea  flashed  across  his  mind  that  he 
would  try  his  hand  at  that  business.  Mr.  Wood- 
man, as  good  fortune  willed  it  for  young  Ran- 
dolph, could  take  only  a  portion  of  the  stamps 
the  cashier  wished  to  dispose  of.  When  the 
broker  had  completed  his  purchase  and  gone, 
Herbert  stepped  up  to  the  cashier  for  the  money 
due  him  for  working  on  the  hoist.  Mr.  Smith 
handed  it  to  him  cheerfully,  with  a  pleasant 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  223 

remark,  which  gave  young  Randolph  an  oppor- 
tunity to  talk  with  him  about  the  stamp  broker- 
age idea  that  had  set  his  brain  on  fire. 

"How  much  capital  have  you?"  asked  the 
cashier,  with  growing  interest. 

"With  the  money  you  just  paid  me  I  have 
three  dollars  and  seventy-five  cents,"  answered 
Herbert,  his  face  coloring. 

The  cashier  smiled. 

"  And  you  think  you  could  become  a  broker 
on  that  capital?  "  said  he,  with  mingled  surprise 
and  amusement. 

"  I  think  I  could  try  it  on  that  capital  if  you 
would  sell  me  the  stamps,"  replied  Herbert, 
with  such  intelligent  assurance  that  he  interested 
the  cashier. 

"You  can  certainly  have  the  stamps,"  an- 
swered the  latter,  "  and  I  will  help  you  in  every 
way  possible,  but "  and  there  was  an  omin- 
ous pause,  as  if  he  were  thinking  how  he  could 
best  discourage  the  boy  from  such  an  under- 
taking. 

Herbert  divined  his  thoughts,  and  said,  "I 
know  such  an  idea  must  seem  foolish  to  you,  who 
handle  so  much  money  ;  but  to  me " 

"Yes,  you  may  be  right,  young  man,"  inter- 
rupted the  cashier.  "  You  certainly  interest  me. 
I  like  ambition  and  pluck,  and  you  evidently 
have  both.  When  would  you  like  the  stamps  ?  " 


224  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Herbert,  in  a  tone  that 
lent  strength  to  his  words.  ' '  You  may  give 
them  to  me  now,  if  you  please — three  dollars' 
worth.  I  may  need  the  seventy  five  cents  before 
I  succeed  in  selling  any  stamps." 

' '  It  is  a  wise  precaution  to  avoid  t}ring  up  all 
your  capital  in  one  thing,"  laughed  the  cashier, 
while  counting  out  the  stamps.  ' '  They  will  cost 
you  two  dollars  and  eighty  five  cents,  at  five  per 
cent  discount,  the  same  as  I  gave  Mr.  Wood- 
man." 

When  the  transaction  had  been  completed, 
young  Randolph  left  the  office  hurriedly,  anxious 
to  learn  what  the  possibilities  of  his  new  under- 
taking were. 

Ten  times  during  that  first  day  did  he  return 
to  Mr.  Smith  for  stamps,  and  ten  times  was  his 
supply  exhausted  by  customers  to  whom  he 
sold  at  par — resulting  in  a  profit  of  a  dollar  and 
fifty  cents — an  income  that  to  him  was  a  small 
fortune. 

That  night  Herbert  Randolph  joined  Bob  Hun- 
ter with  brighter  eyes  and  more  buoyant  spirits 
than  he  had  known  since  Mr.  Goldwin's  failure, 
now  nearly  three  months  ago. 


XXVIII. 

strong  characters  are  able  to  lift  them- 
selves  out  of  poverty  and  adversity  by 
sheer  force  of  will,  unaided  by  any  one.  Such  a 
character  Herbert  Randolph  proved  himself  to  be. 
For  nearly  three  months  he  had  faced  the  most 
discouraging  prospects.  With  education,  with  a 
knowledge  of  accounts,  with  splendid  intelligence, 
with  manly  pride  and  noble  ambition,  he  went 
from  luxurious  banking  apartments  to  the  cold 
wintry  streets,  down,  down  the  cheerless  and 
grim  descent,  till  he  reached  the  bottom — a  point 
which  would  drive  one  not  possessed  with  a  strong 
will,  and  who  gave  up,  under  stress  of  misfortune, 
all  prospects  of  ultimate  success  in  life,  to  despair 
and  crime — where  he  found  himself  in  competi- 
tion with  the  dregs  of  humanity — one  of  them,  as 
far  as  his  employment  went.  Imagine  this  proud 
spirited  boy  humbled  to  the  degree  of  bidding  side 
by  side  for  work  with  a  ragged  Italian,  a  broken 
down  and  blear  eyed  drunkard,  a  cruel  faced 
refugee  from  the  penitentiary,  or  a  wretched, 
unkempt  tramp.  How  his  young,  brave  heart 
must  have  ached  as  he  found  himself  working 
225 


226  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

on  the  hoist  or  in  the  street  with  loathsome 
characters  of  this  description  with  which  he 
mingled — characters  that  purity  and  self  respect 
could  only  shun  as  a  pestilence. 

But  this  he  was  forced  to  do — either  this,  or  to 
acknowledge  his  city  career  a  failure,  and  return 
home  with  crushed  spirits  and  shattered  pride,  a 
disappointment  to  his  father  and  mother  and  the 
butt  of  rude  rural  jokes  for  his  more  or  less 
envious  neighbors. 

The  latter  is  just  what  most  boys  would  have 
done,  but  not  so  young  Randolph.  His  eyes 
were  closed  to  any  such  escape  from  his  present 
wretched  condition.  Herein  he  showed  his  su- 
perior strength.  But  how  little  he  realized,'  as 
he  worked  with  dogged  determination  at  these 
cheerless  tasks,  that  this  very  employment  would 
lead  him  into  the  light,  as  it  ultimately  did.  Boys 
see  nothing  but  drudgery  in  such  employment, 
or  in  any  humble  position.  They  want  to  com- 
mence work  at  something  genteel.  An  easy 
clerical  position  like  the  one  young  Randolph  had 
with  Mr.  Goldwin  appeals  strongly  to  their  taste. 
Fine  clothes,  white  hands,  little  work  and  short 
hours — these  are  in  great  demand  among  boys. 
Young  Randolph,  indeed,  was  no  exception  to  the 
rule.  He  sought  a  position  in  a  bank  and  got  it. 
Fortunately  for  him,  however,  the  bank  failed, 
and  he  was  thrown  into  the  streets.  But  for 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  227 

this  he  would  have  been  a  clerk  still — a  little 
three  dollar  machine,  which  bears  no  patent,  and 
possesses  no  especial  value  over  the  ten  thou- 
sand other  machines  capable  of  performing  sim- 
ilar work.  His  dream  of  wealth  and  position 
would  in  all  probability  never  have  materialized. 
He  would  doubtless  have  in  time  become  a  head 
clerk  at  a  respectable  salary.  But  how  little  this 
would  have  satisfied  his  ambition  !  His  desire 
to  be  at  the  head  of  the  firm  could  never  have 
been  realized,  for  he  would  not  have  had  the 
money  to  place  himself  there.  The  result  would 
have  been  clerking,  clerking,  miserable,  aimless 
clerking,  and  nothing  more.  But  now,  through 
what  seemed  to  him  his  misfortune  had  come 
good  fortune — through  the  drudgery  of  the  hoist 
had  come  a  business  of  his  own — a  growing,  pay- 
ing, business — a  business  of  great  possibilities. 
The  suffering  he  had  undergone  did  him  no  per- 
manent harm.  On  the  contrary  it  enabled  him 
to  appreciate  more  keenly  the  opportunity  he 
now  had  for  making  money  and  supplying  him- 
self with  the  necessaries,  and  some  of  the  luxur- 
ies, of  life. 

Young  Randolph's  brokerage  business  grew 
day  by  day  as  he  added  new  customers  and 
learned  how  to  manage  it  more  successfully.  In 
a  little  time  he  saw  the  necessity  of  having  a 
place  where  his  customers  could  reach  him  by 


228  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

mail  or  messenger.  He  therefore  arranged  with 
a  party  on  Nassau  Street  to  allow  him  desk  room. 
Then  followed  this  card  : 


HERBERT  RANDOLPH, 

III  NASSAU  STREET, 
BUYS  AND  SELLS  NEW   YORK. 

ALL  KINDS  OF   FOREIGN   COW  AND  PAPEB. 

United  States  Silver  and  Postage 
Stamps  a  Specialty. 


It  was  with  much  pleasure  that  he  studied 
these  neatly  printed  cards.  The  first  thing  that 
he  did  after  receiving  them  from  the  printer  was 
to  inclose  one  in  a  letter  to  his  mother.  He  had 
already  written  her  glowing  accounts  of  his 
growing  business,  and  he  felt  that  this  card 
would  give  a  realism  to  his  pen  pictures  that  he 
had  been  unable  to  impart.  He  thought  long 
and  with  pride  how  sacredly  that  little  bit  of 
pasteboard  would  be  treasured  by  his  parents — 
how  proudly  they  would  show  it  to  their  neigh- 
bors, and  the  comments  that  it  would  bring 
forth. 

Then  he  took  one  over  to  Bob  Hunter,  who  ex- 
hibited no  little  surprise  as  he  read  it  admiringly. 

Later  in  the  evening  he  and  the  newsboy  went 
as  usual  to  visit  Tom  Flannery,  who  now,  poor 
boy,  seemed  to  be  yielding  to  that  dread  disease 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  229 

— consumption.  How  his  face  brightened  up  as 
he  looked  at  the  card  with  scarcely  less  pride 
than  if  it  had  been  his  own  ! 

"  I  wish  I  could  get  into  that  business,  Her- 
bert, when  I  get  well,"  said  he,  turning  the  card 
languidly  in  his  thin,  emaciated  fingers  ;  "  you'n' 
me'n'  Bob.  Yes,  I  would  like  that,  for  we  always 
had  such  good  times  together,  didn't  we,  Bob?" 

"  Yes,  we  did,  Tom,"  answered  Bob,  tenderly. 
' '  I  guess  as  good  times  as  anybody  ever  had, 
even  if  we  didn't  have  much  money." 

"  So  I  think,  Bob.  I've  thought  of  it  a  good 
many  times  while  I've  been  sick  here — of  the  de- 
tective business  and  all,  and  how  grand  you 
managed  the  whole  thing.  But  then  you  always 
done  everything  grand,  Bob.  None  er  the  boys 
could  do  it  like  you." 

' '  You  do  some  things  much  better  than  I  could, 
Tom,"  said  Bob. 

"No,  Bob.  I  never  could  do  nothing  like 
you." 

"  You  bear  your  sickness  more  patiently  than 
I  could,  and  that  is  harder  to  do  than  anything  I 
ever  did,"  replied  Bob. 

' '  Well,  I  have  to  do  it,  you  know,  Bob.  There 
ain't  no  other  way,  is  there,  Herb " 

The  last  part  of  the  word  was  lost  in  violent 
coughing  that  racked  the  boy's  feeble  frame  ter* 
ribly. 


230  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  are  talking  too  much,  Tom," 
said  Herbert.  ' '  We  must  not  allow  you  to  say 
any  more  at  present." 

Ten  days  later,  and  Tom  had  grown  too  weak 
to  be  dressed.  Part  of  the  time  he  lay  bolstered 
up  in  bed,  but  even  this  taxed  his  strength  too 
heavily.  He  had  become  very  much  wasted,  and 
was  little  more  than  a  skeleton.  All  hope  of  his 
recovery  had  been  given  up,  and  it  was  now 
simply  a  question  of  how  long  he  could  be  kept 
alive.  Bob  and  Herbert  brought  him  choice 
fruits,  and  drew  liberally  from  their  slender  purses 
to  buy  for  him  whatever  would  tend  to  make  him 
more  comfortable  or  would  gratify  his  fancy. 

Poor  Mrs.  Flannery  was  almost  overcome  with 
sorrow  as  she  saw  her  boy  wasting  away  and 
sinking  lower  and  lower  as  each  day  passed  by. 
He  was  her  only  child,  and  she  loved  him  with 
all  the  force  of  her  great  mother's  heart. 

At  length  the  end  came.  Bob  and  Herbert 
were  present  w7ith  the  grief  stricken  mother,  try- 
ing to  comfort  her  and  struggling  to  repress  the 
sorrow  each  felt  at  the  close  approach  of  death. 

For  several  hours  the  sick  boy  had  been  in  a 
sort  of  stupor  from  which  it  seemed  probable  that 
he  would  never  ralljr.  He  lay  like  one  dead, 
scarcely  breathing.  Towards  midnight,  however, 
he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  upon  the  three  tear 
stained  faces  beside  his  bed.  An  expression  of 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  231 

deepest  pity  settled  upon  his  countenance,  and  he 
spoke  with  much  effort,  saying  : 

"  Don't  cry,  mother;  don't  feel  so  bad  for  me. 
You  have  Bob  and  Herbert  left.  They  will  look 
out  for  you  when  I  am  gone,"  whispered  the 
dying  boy  faintly,  and  he  turned  his  eyes  for 
confirmation  to  the  friend  who  had  never  failed 
him. 

"Yes,"  answered  Bob,  pressing  the  sufferer's 
hand  warmly.  ' '  We  will  do  everything  you 
could  wish  us  to  for  your  mother — you  would 
have  done  it  for  either  of  us,  Tom." 

The  latter 's  eyes  moistened  and  grew  bright 
with  a  feeling  of  joy  at  this  assurance  from  Bob 
— this  last  proof  of  his  true  friendship. 

"  I  knew  it  before,  mother,"  he  said,  nerving 
himself  for  the  effort,  "but  it  makes  me  happy 
to  hear  him  say  it  before  you — to  hear  him  say  it 
before  I  go." 

"And  you  may  rely  upon  me  also,  Tom,  to 
join  Bob  in  doing  for  your  mother  whatever 
would  please  you  most,"  said  Herbert,  unable  to 
keep  back  the  hot  tears. 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  of  that,  Herbert.  You  and 
Bob  are  just  alike,  and  can  do  more  than  I  could 
if  I  had  lived.  I  am  so  glad  I  knew  you,  Her- 
bert," continued  the  dying  boy,  his  face  flushing 
with  momentary  animation  as  he  recalled  the 
past.  "  What  good  times  we  have  had,  you  and 


232  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

me  and  Bob !  I  thought  they  would  last  al- 
ways, but — but — well  I  wish  I  might  have  lived 
to  go  into  business  with  you.  I  would  have 
tried  my  best  to  please  you,  and ' ' 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Herbert,  noticing  the 
sufferer's  hesitation. 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  you  if  the  business, 
your  new  business,  wouldn't  get  big  enough  to 
take  Bob  in  with  you — to  make  him  a  partner,  so 
he  can  make  a  lot  of  money,  too.  I  was  almost 
afraid  to  ask  you,  but " 

"That  is  already  fixed,"  said  Bob  hoarsely, 
almost  overcome  by  the  solicitude  of  his  dying 
friend.  ' '  Herbert  gave  me  an  interest  in  the 
business  today,  and  I  shall  commence  working 
with  him  as  soon  as  I  am  needed. ' ' 

' '  I  am  so  glad,  so  glad, ' '  responded  the  suffer- 
er faintly,  and  with  a  smile  that  told  plainly  the 
joy  that  this  knowledge  gave  him.  "It's  all 
right  now,"  he  continued  slowly,  and  with  great- 
er effort,  for  the  little  strength  he  had  left  was 
fast  leaving  him.  "  You  will  be  taken  care  of, 
mother,  and  Bob  will  be  taken  care  of  by  Her- 
bert," he  went  on,  sinking  into  a  half  uncon- 
scious state.  ' '  I  know  they  will  do  well  and 
will  make  rich  men  and  have  everything  in  the 
world  they  want.  I  wish  I  could  see  them  then 
with  a  big  banking  house  and  clerks  and  private 
offices  and  errand  boys  and  electric  bells  and  fine 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  233 

carriages  aud  horses  and  a  brown  stone  house  in 
the  avenue,  may  be." 

In  a  little  while  he  regained  full  consciousness 
as  if  by  a  powerful  effort,  and  said  in  a  faint 
whisper : 

"  There  is  one  thing  more,  mother — my  knife, 
my  little  brass  knife." 

Mrs.  Flaunery  brought  it  and  placed  it  in  his 
thin  hands. 

He  looked  at  it  with  such  a  strange  expression  of 
affection — a  little  well  worn  knife  of  inexpensive 
make.  How  long  he  had  carried  it  in  his  pocket, 
how  many  times  he  had  held  it  in  his  hand,  and 
now — yes,  now,  he  held  it  for  the  last  time — only 
this  little  knife,  yet  his  all,  his  only  legacy. 

"  You  won't  want  it,  will  you,  mother?  "  said 
he,  with  moist  eyes  and  struggling  with  emotion. 

"  No,  no,  Tommy,"  sobbed  the  broken  hearted 
mother. 

'.'  I  knew  you  wouldn't,"  said  he,  "  for  I  want 
to  give  it  to  Bob.  It  ain't  much,  I  know,  Bob," 
he  continued,  addressing  the  latter  ;  "  but  it's  all 
I  have.  You  will  keep  it,  won't  you,  to  remem- 
ber me  by  ?  When  you  get  to  be  a  man — a  rich 
business  man  with  fane  offices  and  a  house  of 
your  own,  look  at  this  knife  sometimes — my 
knife,  and  think  of  me,  and  how  we  used  to 
work  together.  Yes,  you  will  do  so,  won't  you 
Bob?" 


234  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"I  will,  Tom,  I  will,"  answered  Bob,  as  he 
took  the  little  knife  into  his  own  hands.  "  I  will 
keep  it  always  to  remind  me  of  you,"  and  he 
bowed  his  head  upon  the  bed  beside  his  dying 
friend  and  cried  with  sincere  grief. 

"  It's  all  right  now,"  responded  the  sufferer. 
"All  right,"  he  repeated,  as  his  mother  pressed 
her  lips  to  his  forehead. 

"All  right,"  again,  so  feebly  that  the  last  word 
fainted  half  spoken  by  his  dying  lips. 

In  a  few  moments  the  last  death  struggle  was 
over.  He  was  gone,  poor  Tom,  the  honest,  trust- 
ful boy  with  a  pure  heart  and  noble  friendship — 
cut  off  in  the  morning  of  his  life  by  a  sickness 
brought  on  by  exposure,  and  an  exposure  made 
necessary  that  he  might  earn  the  means  to  supply 
his  humble  wants.  A  cruel  world  this  seems 
sometimes,  when  one  reflects  how  unevenly  the 
joys  and  sorrows,  and  luxuries  and  misery  are 
distributed  among  brothers  and  sisters,  neighbors 
and  countrymen. 


XXIX. 

"~P  HE  grief  of  the  broken  hearted  mother  and 
the  two  faithful  friends  can  better  be 
imagined  than  described.  Words,  however  ably 
chosen,  fail  utterly  to  picture  the  sufferings  of 
the  human  heart.  In  imagination  we  can  see  the 
three  bending  over  the  still  form  of  him  to  whose 
heart  each  was  attached  so  firmly.  One,  a  well 
aged  woman,  still  clinging  passionately  to  the 
cold  hands  and  moaning  with  almost  frantic  grief. 
Now  she  presses  the  lifeless  figure  to  her  breast, 
appealing  wildly  to  it  to  speak  to  her,  to  call  her 
"  mother  "  just  once  more.  Again  she  falls  upon 
her  knees  and  prays  as  only  one  prays  with  burst- 
ing heart,  that  her  boy,  her  Tom,  her  only  child, 
her  very  life,  may  be  restored  to  her.  With  her 
tears  are  mingled  those  of  Herbert  and  Bob, 
whose  young  spirits  overflow  with  sorrow,  not 
alone  for  their  own  loss  at  the  hands  of  death 
but  at  the  distraction  of  the  bereaved  mother. 

A  little  later  we  see  the  undertaker  arrive  with 
all  his  dread  paraphernalia,  then  the  casket,  a 
plain,  neat  one  purchased  by  Herbert  and  Bob, 
in  due  time  receives  the  dead  body. 
235 


236  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

The  funeral  follows  speedily,  and  is  held  in 
Mrs.  Flannery's  rooms.  In  one  of  them  she  lies 
in  bed  helplessly  ill  from  grief  and  utter  prostra- 
tion. All  preparations  for  the  burial  have  been 
made  by  Herbert  and  Bob.  The  minister  arrives, 
and  after  a  hurried  talk  with  Herbert  devotes 
himself  to  Mrs.  Flannery,  trying  to  lessen  her 
sorrow  by  such  words  of  consolation  and  assur- 
ance as  his  calling  enables  him  to  speak  with 
something  like  holy  authority. 

A  tall,  fine  looking  man  with  a  young,  sweet 
faced  girl  now  knocks  at  the  door.  They  are 
Mr.  Goldwin  and  his  daughter,  and  the  latter 
brings  a  cross  of  flowers  for  a  burial  offering. 
How  strangely  out  of  place  they  seem  in  these 
small,  barely  furnished  attic  rooms,  yet  they  have 
come  with  honest  purpose  to  pay  honor  to  the 
humble  dead.  Mr.  Goldwin  had  known  of  Tom's 
brave  part  in  rescuing  Herbert  from  the  villains 
by  whom  he  had  been  imprisoned.  He  had  at 
that  time  sent  him  a  reward,  and  now  he  came 
sorrowfully  to  mingle  his  tears  with  those  of  the 
lowly  friends  of  the  dead.  Ray  had  begged  to 
come  with  him,  and  he  was  glad  to  grant  her  the 
request,  for  he  felt  that  she  would  receive  a  les- 
son from  this  simple  funeral  such  as  could  not  be 
learned  elsewhere. 

A  delegation  of  newsboys  about  the  age  of  the 
dead  now  arrived.  They  had  known  him  well  as 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  237 

a  rival  trader,  as  a  true  friend  and  agreeable 
companion.  They  had  often  asked  after  him 
during  his  illness,  and  now  they  came,  their 
bright  young  faces  heavy  with  sorrow,  to  follow 
his  remains  to  the  tomb.  They  brought  with 
them  a  handsome  wreath  of  flowers  bearing  the 
simple  word  "  Tom." 

The  casket  was  carried  into  the  sick  room  and 
placed  on  a  table  not  far  from  the  bed  on  which 
Mrs.  Flannery  lay  sobbing.  When  all  had  been 
seated,  the  minister  rose  and  prayed,  such  a 
prayer  as  is  seldom  offered.  The  occasion  was 
an  inspiration  to  the  holy  man.  In  all  his  years 
of  ministry  he  had  never  been  called  upon  to  at- 
tend such  a  funeral  as  this — so  simple,  so  strange, 
and  yet  so  genuinely  sad.  It  was  a  boy's  funeral, 
the  casket  had  been  bought  by  boys,  the  details 
of  the  funeral  had  been  arranged  by  boys,  and 
boys — nearly  a  score  of  them — were  there  to 
mourn  the  loss  of  their  friend.  And  they  were 
no  ordinary  boys,  with  careless,  thoughtless  man- 
ners, but  sturdy  lads  who  were  almost  men  in 
thought,  for  long,  long  months  had  they,  like 
the  deceased,  been  compelled  to  think  and  act 
for  themselves. 

Mr.  Goldwin  and  Ray,  aided  to  some  extent 
by  a  few  of  the  boys,  sang  a  hymn,  and  then  the 
minister,  after  reading  the  Bible,  gave  a  sym- 
pathetic and  impressive  talk  that  went  home  to 


238  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

the  hearts  of  every  one  present.  Bob  and  Her- 
bert could  not  have  felt  greater  sorrow  had  the 
dead  been  their  own  brother.  They  tried,  how- 
ever, to  restrain  their  grief,  as  everything  de- 
pended upon  them,  since  Mrs.  Flannery  was  now 
helpless. 

At  the  close  of  the  service  all  but  Mrs.  Flaii- 
nery  passed  by  the  casket,  looking  for  the  last 
time  upon  the  features  of  the  dead  boy  before  the 
the  lid  was  closed.  The  mother  was  bolstered 
up  in  bed,  and  the  casket  was  lowered  beside 
her,  where  she  too  could  view  the  remains.  The 
pall  bearers  were  selected  from  the  delegation  of 
newsboys,  as  I  think  Tom  would  have  wished 
had  he  expressed  himself  upon  this  point. 

In  a  little  time  the  casket  had  been  placed 
within  the  hearse,  and  this  strange  funeral  party 
started  on  its  solemn  journey  to  the  tomb.  Mr. 
Goldwin  and  Ray  and  Herbert  and  Bob  occupied 
the  carriage  of  chief  mourners — not  that  the  two 
former  could  strictly  be  called  mourners,  but  their 
object  in  going  to  the  tomb  was  to  comfort  the 
two  boys,  for  whose  conduct  Mr.  Goldwin  had 
the  greatest  admiration. 

The  newsboys  followed  in  other  carriages, 
which  had  been  secured  by  Bob  Hunter  without 
cost,  when  it  was  known  for  what  purpose  they 
were  wanted. 

The  remains  of  the  dead  boy  were  buried  be- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  239 

side  those  of  his  father  and  sister  in  Greenwood 
Cemetery,  where  his  mother  had  bought  a  plot 
at  the  death  of  her  husband. 

"We  must  buy  a  stone,  Herbert,  for  Tom's 
grave  when  we  can  get  the  money,"  said  Bob,  as 
they  came  slowly  away  from  the  cemetery. 

"Yes,  we  will  do  that  some  time,  Bob,"  an- 
swered Herbert,  with  swollen  eyes.  "  But  our 
first  duty  is  to  take  care  of  his  mother. ' ' 

"Yes,  we  promised  him  that  we  would  look 
after  her,  and  we  must  do  it — he  would  have  done 
it  for  either  of  us,"  answered  Bob,  choking  with 
emotion  as  his  mind  went  back  to  the  death  scene. 

"I  wish  I  could  help  do  something  for  Mrs. 
Flannery,  poor  woman,"  said  Ray,  addressing  her 
father. 

' '  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  have  you  do  anything 
in  reason,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin  with 
pleasure.  "  Nothing  would  make  me  more  proud 
of  my  daughter  than  to  see  her  helping  others 
who  need  encouragement  and  assistance." 

"You  shall  be  proud  of  me  then,  father,"  re- 
plied Ray  with  enthusiasm.  "  I  am  so  glad  you 
took  me  with  you  today.  It  has  given  me  a  new 
idea  of  life.  Now  I  feel  as  if  I  could  be  of  some 
use  in  the  world." 

"  You  certainly  can  if  you  wish  to  do  good,  for 
the  competition  in  that  line  is  not  so  great  as  it 
should  be,"  answered  Mr.  Goldwin  thoughtfully. 


240  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  It  looks  so  in  Mrs.  Flannery's  case  surely,''' 
remarked  Herbert ;  "  there  were  few  to  help  her 
in  her  terrible  trouble." 

1 '  Did  she  have  no  friends  but  you  and  Mr. 
Hunter?"  asked  Ray. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  answered  young  Randolph, 
' '  at  least  none  that  I  know  of. ' ' 

"  What  would  she  have  done,  poor  woman,  but 
for  your  kindness  ?  ' ' 

"  I  do  not  like  to  think  about  it,"  replied  Her- 
bert, with  a  shudder. 

' '  I  think  I  know  of  a  good  woman  who  would 
go  down  and  take  care  of  Mrs.  Flannery  while 
she  is  sick,"  said  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  She  certainty 
needs  good  nursing  for  the  present." 

"I  wish  such  a  woman  could  be  had,"  said 
Herbert,  "  for  both  Bob  and  myself  are  anxious 
to  get  to  work." 


XXX. 

HTHREE  weeks  after  the  funeral  Mrs.  Flan- 
•*-  nery  had  sufficiently  recovered  her  strength 
to  be  moved  safely  from  the  rooms  she  had  occu- 
pied so  long.  Ray  Goldwin  had  done  much 
towards  bringing  about  this  satisfactory  result  by 
her  frequent  visits  and  cheerful  manner — always 
saying  and  doing  the  right  thing  with  admirable 
tact.  She  became  much  interested  in  the  child- 
less woman  whose  heart  still  bled  unceasingly 
for  her  "poor  Tom,  poor  Tom,"  as  she  mur- 
mured often  to  herself. 

At  the  funeral  Ray  had  contrasted  her  own 
life  with  that  of  Herbert  and  Bob.  As  she  pon- 
dered over  what  these  two  humble  boys,  with  so 
slender  means,  had  done  for  the  dying  lad  and  his 
grief  stricken  mother,  she  felt  how  much  she 
suffered  by  the  comparison. 

The  solemnity  of  the  occasion  and  the  glowing 
words  of  praise  for  the  two  friends  of  the  dead, 
spoken  with  such  peculiar  force  by  the  minister, 
led  her,  as  was  natural,  to  overestimate  their 
worth  and  undervalue  her  own.  With  the  same 
spirit,  therefore,  with  which  she  admired  Her- 
241 


242  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

bert  and  Bob  for  their  acts,  she  condemned  her 
own  inactivity,  and  there  in  that  little  room,  be- 
side the  remains  of  the  humble  newsboy  she  re- 
solved that  she  would  be  something  more  than  a 
society  girl  as  her  life  had  hitherto  been  tending. 
She  had  learned  a  valuable  lesson  and  given  place 
to  a  purpose  as  noble  as  it  was  humane. 

That  she  was  carrying  out  this  purpose  her 
kind  acts  and  words  of  comfort  to  Mrs.  Flannery 
amply  attested.  She,  however,  was  not  alone 
the  source  of  comfort  while  on  these  missions  of 
noble  charity,  for  the  sick  woman  gave  her,  un- 
consciously, to  be  sure,  as  she  talked  of  Herbert 
Randolph,  a  taste  of  happiness  of  a  finer  and 
sweeter  character  than  she  herself,  poor  woman, 
could  ever  hope  again  to  feel.  It  was  born  of 
hero  worship — a  worship  ripening  into  simple, 
childlike  sentiment.  I  say  hero  worship,  for 
such  her  thoughts  of  young  Randolph  and  Bob 
Hunter  were  when  she  first  realized  how  kind 
and  generous  they  had  been  to  him  who  now  lay 
dead,  and  to  his  helpless  and  heart  broken  mother. 

Such  thoughts,  however,  to  a  young  girl  just 
verging  upon  the  age  of  woman,  and  when  the 
hero  is  a  noble,  manly  boy  like  Randolph,  are  but 
the  buds  of  the  more  beautiful  and  fragrant  flower 
which  time  is  sure  to  bring  forth. 

And  this  is  the  way  that  Ray  came  to  find  such 
pleasure  in  the  simple  talk  of  Mrs.  Flannery — 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  243 

talk  that  but  for  this  magnetic  interest  must  have 
been  unbearably  dull  to  her  young  ears. 

Herbert  and  Bob,  feeling  that  it  would  be 
better  for  the  bereaved  mother  to  get  away  from 
her  present  rooms  where  she  was  constantly  re- 
minded of  the  dead,  leased  a  neat  little  flat  in 
Harlem,  to  which  she  was  moved,  together  with 
her  furniture.  Here  they  designed  making  a  home 
for  themselves,  inaugurating  Mrs.  Flannery  as 
housekeeper.  It  seemed  to  them  that  they  could 
in  no  other  way  carry  out  so  fully  the  wishes  of 
their  dead  friend.  The  housework  would  occupy 
her  mind  and  keep  her  busy,  and  by  their  living 
thus  together  she  would  have  with  her  the  two 
friends  in  whose  care  the  deceased  had  placed 
her.  Moreover  each  desired  a  better  home  than 
their  cheerless  attic  room  had  been  to  them,  and 
they  felt  that  they  could  now  afford  to  spend 
more  upon  themselves. 

Thus  the  flat  was  taken  and  with  Mrs.  Flan- 
nery's  furniture,  a  few  new  things  from  the  store 
and  little  fancy  articles  made  and  contributed  by 
Ray  and  her  mother,  the  boys  found  themselves 
very  happily  situated  in  their  new  home.  Mrs. 
Flannery,  too,  while  at  her  new  duties,  recovered 
more  quickly  than  would  seem  possible  from  the 
terrible  shock  she  had  sustained.  In  young 
Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  she  found  all  she  could 
have  desired  in  sons  of  her  own — found,  as  her 


244  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

poor  dying  boy  had  said,  that  they  would  look 
out  for  her,  and  could  do  more  for  her  than  he 
had  done.  And  she  proved  a  good  mother  to 
them,  studying  their  every  want  with  gratitude 
and  affection. 

To  Bob  especially  the  comforts  of  his  present 
life  gave  great  happiness,  and  as  the  weeks  rolled 
by  he  became  more  and  more  attached  to  his  new 
home,  and  spent  all  the  spare  time  possible  in 
study,  being  taught  by  Randolph. 


XXXI. 

A  A  7"HIL,E  young  Randolph  was  away  from  his 
business  during  the  few  days  of  the  death 
and  burial  of  his  friend,  the  proprietor  of  a  house 
from  whom  Herbert  bought  a  great  many  stamps 
complained  to  his  bookkeeper  about  the  large 
supply  on  hand. 

' '  But  we  cannot  get  rid  of  them  if  no  one  calls 
for  them,"  replied  the  latter. 

"  Hasn't  Littlewood  been  in  for  any?" 

"  No,  he  has  not  been  here  for  ten  days." 

' '  Ten  days,  repeated  the  merchant  thought- 
fully. ' '  What  has  become  of  the  boy  broker  ?  I 
have  not  seen  him  here  lately. ' ' 

"  The  boy  broker,"  said  the  bookkeeper,  taking 
Herbert's  card  from  a  drawer  to  find  his  address. 
' '  He  is  at  1 1 1  Nassau  Street.  Shall  I  send  for 
him?" 

' '  Yes,  do  so, ' '  said  the  proprietor  as  he  walked 
away. 

' '  The  boy  broker, ' '  repeated  the  bookkeeper 
to  himself,   catching   at  his   employer's  words. 
' '  That  has  a  good  ring  to  it  and  would  sound 
well  on  Young  Randolph's  cards." 
245 


246  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

Having  a  pen  in  his  hand  he  dipped  it  in  red 
ink  and  printed  diagonally  across  Herbert's  card 
the  words  THE  BOY  BROKER.  ' '  That  looks 
well,"  said  he  to  himself,  holding  it  off  and  eye- 
ing it  critically.  "  It  is  catchy.  I  will  suggest 
to  young  Randolph  that  he  add  it  to  his  cards 
and  print  it  in  red  ink  as  I  have  done.  There's 
nothing  like  advertising,"  he  went  on,  talking  to 
to  himself.  "  It  pays,  and  this  will  pay  Ran- 
dolph— I  know  it  will." 

The  suggestion  was  accordingly  made  to  Her- 
bert and  he  adopted  it,  having  his  cards  printed 
precisely  as  the  one  the  bookkeeper  had  shown 
him. 

And  this  is  the  way  he  became  known  as  THE 
BOY  BROKER.  The  name  proved  "  catchy,"  ns 
the  bookkeeper  had  predicted,  and  after  adopting 
it  Herbert  found  his  business  growing  more 
rapidly  than  ever.  But  just  now  a  most  unex- 
pected bit  of  good  look  came  to  the  young 
Vermonter  and  at  a  time  too  when  he  felt  sorely 
the  need  of  money.  The  cause  brought  by  Mr. 
Gold  win's  lawyer  against  Christopher  Gun- 
wagner  for  false  imprisonment  of  Herbert  Ran- 
dolph had  come  up  for  trial.  Herbert  and  Bob 
were  summoned  to  court  to  testify  against  the 
old  fence. 

The  trial  was  ably  conducted  on  both  sides, 
but  the  fact  that  young  Randolph  had  been  re- 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  247 

strained  from  his  liberty  by  one  Christopher 
Gunwagner,  a  notorious  fence,  was  quickly  es- 
tablished. It  only  remained  then  for  the  jury  to 
find  the  damages. 

Herbert  had  sued  for  one  thousand  dollars,  and 
his  lawyer  made  able  argument  to  recover  the 
full  amount. 

He  dwelt  at  length  upon  our  hero's  sufferings 
in  that  damp,  musty  cellar,  infested  as  it  was  by 
rats  to  such  a  degree  as  to  threaten  his  reason  ; 
all  of  which  was  only  too  true.  Graphically  did 
the  lawyer  picture  this  scene,  so  graphically 
that  the  hearts  of  the  jurymen  were  noticeably 
touched. 

Then  the  lawyer  argued  that  outside  and  be- 
yond the  actual  injury  suffered,  there  should  be 
an  exemplary  damage  awarded.  The  worst 
traits  of  the  old  fence  were  shown  up,  and  con- 
trasted with  the  spotless  character  of  Herbert 
Randolph. 

The  judge  in  his  charge  sustained  the  idea  of 
exemplary  damage,  and  then  the  case  went  to 
the  jury. 

They  had  remained  out  about  three  quarters  of 
an  hour,  when  they  came  in  and  announced  a  ver- 
dict in  favor  of  Herbert  Randolph  of  five  hun- 
dred and  seventy  Jive  dollars  ! 

Young  Randolph  was  never  more  surprised  in 
his  life,  or  only  once  ;  and  that  was  when  he 


248  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

found  Bob  Hunter  at  old  Gunwagner's  on  the 
night  of  his  escape. 

"Five  hundred  and  seventy  five  dollars!" 
said  he  to  himself,  unable  to  realize  that  he  had 
been  awarded  such  a  sum  of  money. 

Bob  Hunter  congratulated  him,  his  lawyer 
congratulated  him,  and  the  court  did  even  like- 
wise. 

But  none  were  more  hearty  and  genuine  in 
their  congratulations  than  Mr.  Goldwin  and  his 
pretty  daughter  Ray. 

"  I  owe  it  all  to  you,  Mr.  Goldwin,"  said  Her- 
bert gratefully.  "  I  should  never  have  thought 
of  commencing  action  against  old  Gunwagner  but 
for  your  advice. ' ' 

The  odd  seventy  five  dollars  paid  the  lawyer  and 
all  the  court  expenses.  This  left  a  clear  five 
hundred  dollars  for  young  Randolph — what  a  lot 
of  money,  five  hundred  dollars  in  new,  crisp 
bank  notes  ! 

1 '  And  it  shall  all  go  into  our  business,  Bob, ' ' 
said  he,  proudly,  "and  as  you  are  now  an  equal 
partner  with  me  half  of  the  money  will  be 
yours. ' ' 

"  Oh,  no,  Herbert,  that  would  not  be  right," 
protested  Bob. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure  it  would,"  replied  The  Boy 
Broker.  "  My  being  imprisoned  was  due  to  no 
effort  of  my  own,  but  rather  to  my  simplicity, 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  249 

my  lack  of  keenness.  My  release,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  due  to  your  brave  efforts  to  rescue  me. 
To  you,  therefore,  the  greater  reward  is  due — 
you  earned  your  portion,  I  helplessly  endured  the 
misery  that  has  brought  me  mine." 

"  But  I  did  not  suffer  any  and  you  did,"  re- 
turned Bob,  feeling  keenly  his  helplessness  when 
in  an  argument  with  young  Randolph. 

"  You,  however,  took  the  chances  of  suffering, 
and  those  who  take  great  chances  in  business,  in 
war,  and  in  dangerous  enterprises,  of  whatever 
character,  if  successful  are  well  rewarded  for  the 
part  they  have  borne.  No,  Bob,  I  would  not 
think  of  keeping  all  this  money,"  continued  Her- 
bert impressivel)7.  "We  are  partners  in  busi- 
ness together.  I,et  us  start  with  equal  interest  ; 
then  we  should  feel  no  jealousy  toward  each 
other.  This  five  hundred  dollars  will  enable  us 
to  do  five  times  the  business  we  are  now  doing, 
and  if  we  save  the  profits  we  make  we  can  still 
further  increase  it  month  by  month." 

"  Do  you  remember,  Herbert,"  said  Bob,  with 
grateful  expression,  "that  when  Mr.  Goldwin 
failed,  and  you  wrere  thrown  out  of  work,  I  urged 
you  to  take  some  money — only  eight  dollars — and 
you  refused  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remember  it  well,  Bob,"  replied  young 
Randolph. 

' '  And  now  you  ask  me  to  take  two  hundred 


250  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

and  fifty  dollars  from  you.  Why  should  I  not 
refuse  your  offer  as  you  refused  mine  ?  ' ' 

"  Bob,"  said  Herbert,  taking  him  by  the  hand, 
' '  that  eight  dollars  was  a  reserve  fund  ;  it  was  all 
that  stood  between  you  and  me  and  starvation 
or — what  is  almost  as  bad — public  charity.  I 
appreciated  as  you  little  knew  your  generous 
offer,  and  it  cut  me  to  see  how  hurt  you  felt  at 
my  refusal  to  take  the  money.  But  I  thought  of 
the  possibility  of  sickness  or  accident,  and  realized 
how  much  help  those  few  dollars  would  prove  in 
such  a  time.  Again,  I  felt  that  the  money  would 
do  me  no  good.  I  know  now  that  it  would  not 
have  helped  me,  for  I  should  simply  have  used 
it  up  and  would  then  have  been  no  nearer  solv- 
ing the  problem  that  pressed  me  for  an  answer — 
namely,  how  to  earn  sufficient  means  with  which 
to  buy  bread  and  procure  a  shelter  for  myself. ' ' 

"I  think  you  were  right,  Herbert,"  replied 
Bob  thoughtfully.  "I  couldn't  think  so  then, 
however,  but  it  is  plain  to  me  now." 

"  I  know  I  was  right.  It  was  the  suffering  I 
went  through  in  those  dreary  winter  months  and 
the  miserable  drudgery  I  was  forced  to  perform 
that  at  last  gave  me  a  knowledge  of  this  business, 
and  now  that  it  is  all  over  I  can  only  feel  glad 
that  I  was  forced  out  of  my  comfortable  clerkship 
into  the  cold  wintry  street  that  had  so  sunny  an 
ending. ' ' 


XXXII. 

A  FEW  weeks  after  the  trial  of  Gunwagner 
for  false  imprisonment  he  was  again 
brought  before  the  bar  of  justice  to  answer,  with 
Felix  Mortimer,  to  the  charge  of  conspiring  to 
kidnap  Herbert  Randolph.  Able  counsel  were 
employed  by  the  old  villain,  and  a  hard  fight  was 
made  for  libertj7.  But  the  charges  were  so  well 
sustained  by  the  evidence  of  Herbert  and  Bob, 
and  that  of  the  small  boy  who  aided  the  latter  in 
gaining  admittance  to  the  fence's  den,  that  the 
jury  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

Gunwagner  was,  accordingly,  sentenced  to 
serve  a  long  term  of  imprisonment  at  Sing  Sing 
as  a  penalty  for  his  villainous  acts.  He  had  ac- 
cumulated much  money  by  crooked  means,  and 
now  towards  the  end  of  his  life  his  own  freedom 
was  the  price  paid  for  the  gold  which  now  was 
valueless  to  him. 

Then  came  Felix  Mortimer's  turn.  But  for 
him  Herbert  Randolph  would  never  have  fallen 
into  the  trouble  that  seemed  to  await  him  on  his 
arrival  in  New  York.  Young  Mortimer,  how- 
ever, overreached  himself.  He  was  not  a  match 
251 


252  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

for  Herbert  Randolph  and  Bob  Hunter  together 
— neither  he  nor  all  of  his  disreputable  cronies. 

His  plans  miscarried  woefully  ;  and  now,  after 
many  long  weary  days  of  confinement  in  the 
Tombs,  he  found  himself  sentenced  to  the  House 
of  Correction  for  nearly  four  years,  or  until  he 
reached  the  age  of  his  majority. 

Felix  Mortimer  was  splendidly  endowed  by  na- 
ture for  a  brilliant  man.  He  had  great  ability, 
and  was  unusually  bright  and  prepossessing.  But 
unfortunately  for  him,  and  for  the  community  in 
which  he  lived,  he  commenced  life  in  the  wrong 
way.  He  failed  to  recognize  the  fact  that  no 
true  success  can  be  attained  except  by  operating 
on  the  solid  principles  of  truth  and  honesty.  His 
envy  of  Herbert  Randolph  had  at  last  brought 
him  disgrace  and  humiliation,  while  the  young 
Vermonter  now  had  a  well  paying  and  fast  grow- 
ing business  of  his  own.  How  bitterly  he  must 
have  regretted  his  own  foolish  and  evil  acts, 
when  he  realized  fully  to  what  they  had  brought 
him  ! 

He  could  look  now  upon  Herbert  Randolph 
and  say  to  himself,  truthfully,  "  I  had  the  ability 
to  succeed  as  well  as  you  have  and  to  be  as  much 
respected  as  you  now  are.  My  advantages,  too, 
were  superior  to  yours,  and  yet  here  am  I  a 
prisoner  in  the  House  of  Correction,  deprived  of 
my  liberty  and  in  disgrace,  while  you  have 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  253 

already  entered  upon  a  splendid  business  career. 
And  all  this  difference  comes  from  my  having 
made  a  wrong  start." 

Alas,  how  many  human  wrecks  scattered  all 
along  the  pathway  of  life  could  say  the  same 
thing,  as  they  compare  their  present  wretched 
condition  with  that  of  the  prosperous  and  honored 
citizens — the  solid  men  of  the  community — who 
were  once  their  schoolfellows,  and  whose  early 
career  was  perhaps  less  promising  than  their 
own.  And  all  this  difference,  or  nearly  all,  has 
grown  naturally  out  of  the  right  or  wrong  start 
they  took  in  life. 

Peter  Smartweed  alone  among  the  conspirators 
remains  to  be  accounted  for,  and  this  is  some- 
thing that  the  police  could  not  do.  They  made 
a  careful  search  throughout  the  city  for  him,  but 
his  presence  could  not  be  discovered.  It  was 
believed  that,  fearing  arrest,  he  had  suddenly  left 
his  home  and  the  city  in  which  he  had  spent  his 
life,  when  he  learned  of  the  fate  of  Felix  Morti- 
mer, his  companion  in  crime. 


XXXIII. 

T  T  has  not  seemed  to  me  desirable  to  dwell  upon 
Mr.  Goldwin's  business  affairs — to  show  the 
legal  squabbles  that  followed  his  failure,  or  to 
picture  in  detail  the  trickery  of  Breakwell  &  Co. 
My  aim  has  been  to  introduce  only  what  bore 
directly  upon  the  career  of  Herbert  Randolph.  I 
will  say,  however,  that  the  banker's  failure  did 
not  leave  him  penniless,  as  young  Randolph 
feared  it  might.  He  was  badly  crippled  at  first, 
but  certain  securities  turned  over  to  him  by 
Breakwell  &  Co. ,  which  at  the  time  of  the  failure 
possessed  but  little  market  value,  began  at  the 
end  of  a  few  months  to  advance  rapidly.  When 
they  had  reached  a  point  at  which  it  seemed  to 
him  advisable  to  sell  he  closed  them  out  at  a  price 
that  enabled  him  to  pay  off  all  his  obligations 
without  drawing  upon  his  personal  property  for  a 
penny.  He  was,  therefore,  still  a  wealth}7  man, 
and  was  not  forced  to  reduce  his  style  of  living 
in  the  slightest  degree. 

With  this  simple  statement  I  leave  the  past  to 
record  a  conversation  in  which  the  reader  will 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  future,   in  so  far  as  it 
254 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  255 

relates  to  some  of  those  who  have  been  most  con- 
spicuous in  this  story. 

Young  Randolph  had  now  become  a  frequent 
visitor  at  Mr.  Goldwin's  home,  where,  notwith- 
standing the  many  attractions  of  a  great  city,  he 
spent  the  happiest  hours  of  his  life.  Bob  Hunter, 
moreover,  was  not  an  entire  stranger  at  this 
handsome  residence.  His  visits,  though,  were 
few  in  comparison  to  those  of  his  partner,  and 
this  was  due  to  two  causes — first,  a  decided  reluc- 
tance to  leave  his  books,  for  he  had  become  a 
most  industrious  student,  and  second,  the  lack  of 
so  delightful  an  attraction  as  that  which  turned  the 
steps  of  the  young  Vermonter  so  often  towards  the 
Goldwin  home. 

It  was  now  midwinter.  Herbert  and  Bob  had 
been  in  business  together  nearly  nine  months,  in 
which  time  they  had  by  hard  work  and  splendid 
ability  lifted  themselves  from  poverty  and  drud- 
gery to  a  position  of  prosperity.  In  an  up  town 
savings  bank  a  snug  sum  of  money  was  deposited 
to  their  credit,  and  this  was  in  excess  of  the 
amount  used  in  their  business,  which  had  become 
so  large  that  a  good  working  capital  was  neces- 
sary. 

One  day  they  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Gold- 
win  inviting  them  to  dine  with  him  and  his 
family  on  the  following  evening.  The  letter 
stated,  moreover,  that  he  wished  to  talk  with 


256  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

them  about  a  matter  in  which  he  thought  they 
would  feel  an  interest. 

"What  can  he  wish  to  talk  over  with  us?" 
said  Bob. 

"  I  have  been  speculating  on  that  same  point," 
replied  Herbert. 

"  No,  I  really  cannot  imagine  his  purpose." 

"  It  may  be  about  business,"  suggested  the 
junior  partner. 

"  You  may  be  right,  Bob,  but  it  hardly  seems 
probable  that  he  would  want  to  talk  with  us 
about  business." 

' '  But  you  say  he  has  often  talked  with  you 
about  it  when  you  have  been  at  his  house." 

"  So  he  has,  in  a  general  way,"  replied  Her- 
bert, "  but  I  suppose  that  was  just  to  fill  in  con- 
versation. ' ' 

"  A  mere  matter  of  curiosity  to  know  how  we 
were  doing." 

"Yes." 

"  It's  possible,  though,  that  he  had  other  ob- 
jects in  view." 

"  Possible,  well,  yes  ;  but  not  probable." 

Thus  the  boys  speculated  upon  Mr.  Goldwin's 
purpose,  as  they  went  about  their  work — specu- 
lated and  wondered  till  they  found  themselves  at 
his  table,  where  all  thought  of  this  character  was 
driven  from  their  minds  by  the  pleasant  conver- 
sation that  followed. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  257 

It  was  only  fifteen  months  before  this  that  two 
boys  met  as  if  by  chance  in  City  Hall  Park  one 
brisk  October  morning — one  a  country  lad  fresh 
from  the  rocky  hills  of  old  Vermont,  the  other  a 
keen  eyed,  bright  faced  newsboy  of  New  York. 
Look  at  the  group  around  this  table,  and  tell  me 
if  you  can  see  these  chance  acquaintances — the 
boy  whose  very  act  proclaimed  him  a  farmer's 
son,  or  the  other — the  shabbily  dressed  product 
of  a  metropolitan  street.  And  if  perchance  by 
voice  or  feature  you  recognize  the  boy  of  educa- 
cation  and  ambition,  look  again,  I  urge  you,  that 
you  may  find  his  friend.  ' '  There  is  but  one  boy 
present  beside  him  of  the  farm,"  I  hear  you  say, 
' '  and  surely  it  cannot  be  he,  so  well  dressed  and 
grown  so  tall,  whose  language  bespeaks  a  well 
bred  lad."  But  look  yet  once  more,  I  pray  you, 
and  behold  the  sparkle  of  his  eyes,  the  old  time 
humor  playing  over  his  features,  and — ah  !  now 
he  laughs  and  shows  his  dimples  once  again — the 
same  on  either  cheek  reflecting  the  merriment  he 
feels.  You  yield  at  last,  puzzled  though  I  know 
you  are,  and  the  question  you  would  put  to  me — 
' '  How  came  it  so,  this  marvelous  change  in 
these  two  boys  ?  "  I  will  answer — they  worked 
and  studied. 

When  dinner  was  over  Mr.  Goldwin  and  the 
two  boys  repaired  to  the  library.  After  a  little 
preliminary  talk  the  former  said  ; 


258  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

"  I  am  contemplating  going  into  business 
again. ' ' 

' '  Your  old  business  ?  ' '  asked  Herbert. 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin,  rather  deliber- 
ately, resting  comfortably  in  his  easy  chair  and 
toying  with  his  eye  glasses.  "  I  am  better  fitted 
for  that  than  any  other.  But  my  object  is  not 
wholly  to  make  money,  though  of  course  there  is 
always  pleasure  in  doing  so.  My  purpose  is 
rather  to  provide  myself  with  some  light  employ- 
ment that  would  interest  me,  but  which  would 
not  be  too  severe  a  tax  upon  my  strength.  I 
have  also  a  secondary  object  in  this  connection," 
he  continued,  addressing  Herbert,  "and  that  is 
a  desire  to  put  you  and  Bob  in  the  way  of  enter- 
ing a  first  class  brokerage  business  much  sooner 
than  you  could  hope  to  if  left  to  your  own  efforts. 
I  have  watched  both  of  you  carefully  and  with 
the  keenest  interest.  The  ability  you  have  each 
shown  in  conducting  your  stamp  brokerage  con- 
vinces me  that  you  are  capable  of  moving  up 
higher,  and  therefore  it  gives  me  pleasure  to  offer 
you  an  interest  in  the  business  that  I  am  about 
to  start." 

"But  the  money!"  exclaimed  both  boys, 
speaking  at  once  and  almost  doubting  their  own 
senses,  yet  expressing  in  their  looks  thanks  more 
eloquent  than  words  could  have  conveyed. 

' '  The  money   question   can  be   arranged  all 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  259 

right,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin.  "  I  can  supply  the 
necessary  sum  in  excess  of  your  capital." 

' '  I  can  hardly  realize  such  an  opportunity  as 
open  to  us,"  said  Herbert,  adding  words  of  wann- 
est thanks. 

"Neither  can  I,"  remarked  Bob,  no  less  expres- 
sive in  his  gratitude  to  Mr.  Goldwin. 

"Doubtless  it  is  a  surprise  to  you,"  replied  the 
latter  ;  "  but  the  idea  has  been  growing  with  me 
for  several  months,  and  now  I  am  ready  to  make 
you  this  proposition.  You  of  course  know  that 
you  are  not  old  enough  to  become  legal  partners. 
It  will  therefore  be  necessary  to  conduct  the 
business  under  my  own  name,  and  as  this  was 
my  old  business  name  it  will  be  better  than  a  new 
one." 

"  We  certainly  shall  not  object  to  that,"  said 
Herbert ;  ' '  but  how  can  we  become  members  of 
the  firm  if  not  legal  partners  ? ' ' 

' '  You  can  become  practically  members,  though 
not  real  members,"  returned  Mr.  Goldwin. 
"  That  is  to  say  you  can  draw  a  certain  percent- 
age of  the  profits  in  return  for  your  capital  and 
services.  My  proposition  then  is  this:  I  will 
open  an  office  and  take  both  of  you  boys  in  with 
me,  allowing  you  one  half  of  the  profits  until 
you  become  of  age ;  then  we  will  organize  a 
partnership,  and  each  own  a  third  of  the  busi- 
ness. By  that  time  your  profits,  if  you  do  not 


200  THE  BOY  BROKER. 

spend  too  much  money,  will  enable  you  to  own 
your  interests  clear  of  all  incnmbrance.  Your 
present  brokerage  business  can  be  done  from  our 
office,  and  that  I  shall  want  Bob  to  attend  to  at 
first,  while  you,  Herbert,  I  shall  expect  to  bear 
the  brunt  of  the  burden  in  our  regular  business. 
Your  experience  with  me  before  my  failure 
taught  you  what  is  to  be  done.  We  will  com- 
mence in  a  small  way  at  first,  and  I  shall  not  do 
very  much  work  myself.  I  will  of  course  keep 
an  eye  on  everything,  and  may  bring  many  of  my 
old  customers  back  to  us.  Now  you  have  heard 
my  proposition,"  continued  Mr.  Goldwin,  "how 
do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  possibly  like  anything  better," 
replied  Herbert,  ' '  but  it  seems  too  good  to  be 
true — more  like  an  air  castle  than  a  fact. ' ' 

"So  it  seems  to  me,"  added  Bob. 

"  But  it  is  a  fact,"  laughed  Mr.  Goldwin,  en- 
joying the  surprise  of  the  two  young  partners, 
"and  I  am  ready  to  start  the  ball  rolling  at 
once." 

"We  will  certainly  accept  the  proposition, 
then,"  said  Herbert,  speaking  for  himself  and 
Bob  ;  "  which  is,  as  I  understand,  that  you  are  to 
draw  one  half  of  the  profits,  and  that  Bob  and  I 
will  each  get  one  quarter  ?  ' ' 

"  Yes,  that  is  correct,  up  to  the  time  you  both 
become  of  age,"  replied  Mr.  Goldwin. 


THE  BOY  BROKER.  26 1 

"After  that  we  are  to  become  equal  part- 
ners ?  ' '  said  Bob. 

"  Yes,  and  of  course  each  draw  one  third  of  the 
profits,"  returned  Mr.  Goldwin.  "Whenever 
our  new  business,"  he  continued,  "becomes 
large  enough  to  demand  Bob's  full  time,  I  should 
advise  selling  the  stamp  department.  Until 
then,  however,  we  will  hold  it,  as  it  pays  a  hand- 
some little  income  which  will  swell  our  first 
year's  profits  considerably." 

"Are  you  not  ready  for  our  game  of  chess, 
Mr.  Randolph  ?  "  said  Ray  Goldwin  appearing  in 
the  library  door. 

"That  depends  upon  your  father's  wishes," 
answered  Herbert,  all  too  anxious  to  join  her. 

"  What  say  you,  papa?"  appealed  Ray. 

"Your  wishes  are  law  with  me,  my  dear," 
said  the  father,  with  a  happy  smile.  "  Go,  Her- 
bert, and  win  if  you  can." 

' '  But  the  business, ' '  suggested  young  Ran- 
dolph, as  he  quickly  joined  Ray  in  the  doorway. 

"Ah,  never  mind  that  now;  the  game  will 
suit  you  better,  and  besides  Bob  and  I  can  ar- 
range the  few  details  yet  to  be  talked  over." 


THE;  END. 


688  849 9 


